


Of course, I won't say 'I love you'

by obenio



Series: Words unspoken [1]
Category: Gintama
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, Awkward Romance, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Dadtoki, Domestic Fluff, Drama & Romance, Established Relationship, Everyone Has Issues, F/M, Family Loss, Father-Daughter Relationship, Idiots in Love, Implied Relationships, Married Life, Minor Character Death, Panic Attacks, Parody, Swearing, The Author Regrets Everything, Yorozuya Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:28:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 28,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24756292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obenio/pseuds/obenio
Summary: In which 'I love you' is spelled differently.
Relationships: Kagura/Okita Sougo
Series: Words unspoken [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1879651
Comments: 13
Kudos: 105





	1. o n e

_We are just beginning to promise_ _eternity._

_Maybe it's a big mistake for us in the future._

* * *

If she would have stopped, then she would hear the never-ending, increasingly loud groans and hisses. Blurring it out with the bottle would either calm her down or make her lose her remaining sanity, but at this point, the fourth bottle of Heineken consumed in mere seconds, she did _not_ care. It was a damned Saturday night and for the first time in weeks, she will have her way.

By the time she moved the bottle away from her lips, it slipped from her cold fingers. When her ears rung with the sound of glass breaking and a panicked cry. She groaned. “Oh fuck,” she muttered.

“You could’ve injured my damn foot, dumbass!” Cried the man next to her.

Again, she would not be bothered if it was wrong not to care. She screwed up yet again— _big deal_. Though this whole Saturday night was not going well for her, it seemed. The man beside her released a dramatic sigh and excused himself, going someplace else. Another curse escaped from her lips when the figure disappeared from the wild crowd. Slapping her cold hands onto her flushed face, she muffled a loud groan.

“Okay, we need to sort this… whatever this is, right now!” Demanded the old woman from behind the bar.

“Shut up, old hag,” she squealed. “Another bottle, please.”

Before the old woman could protest, the doors aggressively slid open. Snapping her head at the door, she was ready to scream at whoever is the bastard that had no manners whatsoever, until she recognized who it was. As the newcomer marched up to the bar counter, his expression fuming, the man was beyond disappointed and exhausted.

“What the actual fuck, Kagura?!” He screamed into her ear.

Kagura flinched at his vulgarity and drunkenly smacked her hands onto his face. “Shut up, Gin-chan,” she groaned. “Can’t a woman wallow in misery in peace?”

“You’re being a great pain in the ass right now, you know that?!” He fired back. “Wait, where the hell is Shinpachi?”

“Went to the restroom to clean himself up,” answered the old woman by the bar. “Gintoki, you better set your damn daughter straight.”

Ignoring the old woman, Gintoki caught Kagura’s wrists before she could even smack him again and doused her in vodka which he conveniently grabbed from another customer behind him. Kagura stilled as the cold liquor splashed on her face. The rancid smell of vodka reeked to her clothes immediately and she shrieked. “What the fuck, Gin-chan?!” She yelled.

It was a good thing Gintoki had spotted Shinpachi emerging from the crowd, looking defeated. He called for him immediately. “Alright, I’m finally here… now what?” He asked.

Earlier that night, as Kagura was having her third bottle of Heineken and already drunken out of commission, Shinpachi panicked and called for Gintoki, telling him to rush over at Otose’s bar. When Gintoki caught word of, quoting Shinpachi, “outrageously drunk and disorderly”, he hurriedly slipped on his boots and scampered out of the apartment, not caring if he was just in a loose shirt and boxers with a bathrobe draping idly over his body. It was a good thing that the man was only living in the upstairs apartment so he did not have to parade around the street in that getup.

“She won’t listen to reason,” Shinpachi huffed out, clearly exasperated.

“How many drinks did she had already?” Gintoki asked.

“Other than the four Heineken bottles, she also stole my beer… wait, I smell vodka! What the hell, Kagura-chan?!” Shinpachi shrieked. “You don’t know how much I’ll be in trouble for this!”

“The vodka is my fault,” admitted Gintoki.

“What the hell, Gin-san?!” Yelled Shinpachi. “We’ll be damned if her husband knows of this!”

Suddenly, the woman grabbed an empty glass lying somewhere from the counter and smacked Shinpachi, hitting a bullseye on his nose. Clutching his nose in pain, he so desperately wanted to smack the damned woman but was stopped as the shot glass shattered on the cemented floor.

“That’s it! Get out! Get outta here, you troublemaking bastards!” Yelled the old lady. “You better get your daughter straight, Gintoki, or I’m gonna charge your rent double! You hear me?”

Grabbing the drunk woman, Gintoki and Shinpachi dashed out of the bar and into the night in record time.

As Gintoki and Shinpachi stared back at the bar looking utterly defeated, Kagura wiggled out of their clutches and confronted them both. “Damn you both!” Kagura yelled.

“What the heck is your problem, woman?” Shinpachi fired back.

“You just had to ruin my Saturday? You just had to call up Gin-chan? You just had to mention that bastard in front of me? I was perfectly okay with being drunk and void of that bastard, yes!”

During the nights did the city become livelier, posh, and vivid. Everywhere was basked in colorful lights. The streets were littered with lavishness that will certainly not last for the night. Egos were brimming with lust, the demand for salvation from reality, reveling in sprightliness through this dark haze.

Public arguments most of the time were scandalized but the three of them could not be ashamed. As the people took a sideways glance at them, they proceeded without giving so much as a nod of disapproval or some whispers. The next moments, the rain greeted them fervently, drenching them completely in mere seconds. It was such a wake-up call for Kagura, who had been thoroughly stoned up until that point. When the screaming was finally overshadowed by the escalating rain, they stopped. Shinpachi could distinguish the reddening eyes and felt guilt-ridden. He hadn’t known Kagura was that miserable already.

Gintoki dragged both Shinpachi and Kagura up the stairs and inside his apartment. Standing on the flooding _genkan,_ the three of them registered the brightness of the fluorescent lights and the sudden silence that subdued them. Gintoki sighed as he stripped off his wet boots and uncomfortable wet socks. He walked across the wooden floors, to the bathroom, forgetting about the whole argument.

He was not entitled to but he found himself brewing some tea at the stroke of midnight. Perhaps it was his reflexes, how it had been habitual between the three of them. Shinpachi, still dripping wet, was moving around the kitchen silently. Kagura watched him, her eyes scrutinizing the way he worked. It had also been habitual for the woman to watch Shinpachi do some housework for the last couple of years, committing to memory on how he did every chore.

This though was nothing worth noting but her eyes remained fixated on him.

_Force of habit._

She considered saying something but nothing came to mind. The clock chimed one last time and both of them realized that it was now officially Sunday.

“Something is clearly bothering you,” Shinpachi said, out of nowhere.

Kagura averted her gaze, “I guess so, yes,” she replied.

“Care to tell me about it?” Shinpachi asked, drying himself off with a kitchen towel.

Now that she thought about it, she had been acting very ridiculously earlier that night, not that she never acted ridiculously but this was bordering uncharacteristically abnormal than the usual. Instantly, she regrets dragging both Shinpachi and Gintoki in her damn problems, but of course, it goes against her pride to openly apologize about it.

“It’s none of your business, Patsuan,” she huffed, crossing her arms, “Besides, you’re a cherry boy, you wouldn’t understand, yes”

“Oi, don’t call me ‘cherry boy’!” Shinpachi complained. “And here I am trying to be kind and offer some help but you just insult me. Honestly, Kagura-chan, can you be more mature?”

Looking at him as he mumbled something inaudible whilst grabbing cups, she admitted that he was, indeed, correct. There was no use in trying to act tough, especially after witnessing her “wallow in misery”.

“It’s just…” she trailed off, not knowing how to articulate her dilemma properly, “I just wish that… I mean, he-he should’ve said it by now…”

Shinpachi turned to her, completely puzzled at Kagura’s vague choice of words. “Could you repeat that?”

“Dammit, Patsuan!” She muttered, “I said, I… I wish he would’ve said it by now.”

“He should say what, Kagura-chan?”

“Dammit, we’re married for almost two years but… I never once, you know, heard him say it…” she muttered, each word getting lower than the previous.

Shinpachi blinked once, then twice, and found himself laughing the next. Kagura’s face immediately reddened in embarrassment and her eyes glowered at him. She punched him on the shoulder but he kept on laughing. “The fuck are you laughing for?” She snarled.

“I’m sorry, Kagura-chan but… seriously?” He gasped, in between laughter. “You’re wallowing because Okita-san never said ‘I love you’ yet? Oh God please, have you forgotten all those crazy things Okita-san did for you when we were younger? Have you never seen how alive he becomes when he’s with you? Isn’t the fact that he married you not enough proof that he does? I mean, if there is anything certain in this universe is that he’s in love with you!”

“Hey, even married people fall out of love with their spouses, yes.”

Shinpachi just doubled in laughter, “Okita-san, falling out of love with you? Impossible!”

“Then what’s stopping him from saying those three goddamn words?”

“Kagura-chan, rest assured, all the signs are there and that he does indeed love you,” Shinpachi consoled.

“Oi, oi,” drawled a snarky voice. “You nearly jeopardized my living situation because of what? A petty marital problem?”

Both of them snapped their heads towards the doorway and found Gintoki leaning on the frame with a scowl on his face. He was dressed in different clothes and had towels on his hands.

Kagura was flushed red in embarrassment. Gintoki walked up to them and whacked the towel on Shinpachi’s face, “Patsuan, I know your intentions are good but you’re saying the wrong words,” he said, before whacking the other towel on Kagura. “And you, could you be any more stupid? Maybe Souichirou-kun has been saying it all along but you’re just not listening.”

Prying the towel off her face, she gaped incredulously at Gintoki. “What do you mean?”

“You’re waiting for him to say a specific set of words when actually, there is more than one way to say it. Maybe not directly but it’s there, y’know?” Gintoki explained. “And besides, I thought you, of all people, should know that he is not one for sappy shit like that?”

Kagura sunk her head, all the more feeling ridiculous than before. Of course, her beloved Gin-chan was right. Being romantic is the last thing her husband (whose name is actually Sougo, not Souichirou) would willingly do. Up until now, through all the years they have been together, their usual routine was arguing, fighting, and insulting each other but on other days when they are civil, they acted normally at most (how ‘normally’ meant for them). There was not much romance in between.

When Gintoki saw the young woman incredibly embarrassed, he smiled softly and patted her head. “He’ll come around,” he consoled. “But think about my advice, yeah?”

* * *

She does think about her former guardian’s advice however, about two weeks later she was still bothered and had complained about it from time to time, causing Shinpachi to drown in her sorrows. It was a good thing Shinpachi had been kind enough (or he was just plain fed up with it) to buy a packet of _sukonbu_ whenever she gets into these grumbling moods to shut her up. Sure enough, Kagura buried herself in her work to forget about her problem, even just for a little while, but every goddamn time she had nothing to do, her mind wandered back to the past couple of weeks.

Interactions were normal… maybe, a bit bland than usual. He wakes up then he wakes her up, they both get ready for work and leave the apartment without many words exchanged. Either he goes home first or she does but both were too exhausted to say anything and just went for bed then, the cycle repeats. Honestly, Kagura had enough of it but she was always too damn exhausted to do anything about their daily regime and so, she settled to waiting for him to say something, anything really, but little to none came and it frustrated her.

What frustrated her, even more, was when he announced that he was transferred to the night shift while he had his training course during the day. _Fucking-tastic._

If she were honest, she did not understand Gintoki’s advice to the whole extent but she still considered it. He was her adoptive father after all. She trusted in his words more than anything else, even if sometimes, people berated her for becoming a copycat of that lame excuse of a human.

Staring at her computer screen for what seemed to be hours already, she complained again, for a different reason this time. Eyes scanning the pile of manuscripts on her desk, she realized that she had already completed encoding the dialogue and finished the entire script. Even after going over the programming codes over and over again, it had been finished without fault. Peering away from her desk and to the wall clock, she realized it was getting very late again.

Kagura gave herself a pat on the back. Today turned out to be productive, her and her team, but not quite enough. There was so much to do in so little time before the date of the launch. Everyone was working to the bone, spending too many overtimes that could already double the usual salary, hunched over and shifting between bright LED screens and paper charts.

“Kagura-chan, I know the director talked with you again,” Shinpachi mumbled, “I’m sorry we’ve been kinda slow on the new update but I promise you, we’ll double the work.”

Working for a promising game development studio, Kagura was living the dream. As a level designer and programmer, the woman had been doubling the hours than when she worked indie with Shinpachi. The team they were in proved sufficient, however, the pressure of finishing the new updates of the game before the launch date had taken a huge toll on all of them. Now, their office reeked of caffeine, paper, ink, and strong body odor.

“Kagura-chan, I suggest you go home,” Shinpachi said. “You’ve been here since yesterday, going through the graphics and the coding. You’ve done plenty already.”

“But—”

“I’ll hold the fort for now,” he said. “Go home and rest.”

Her eyes glowered on his for a second before she yielded with a defeated sigh. He had been correct. Pondering about it, maybe she did deserve a little good night’s sleep in her apartment, on her bed. Her mood instantly lightened at the thought. Leaving the office with a quiet farewell, Kagura left the building promptly and entered the parking lot where her scooter had been parked since yesterday morning.

It was a hot summer night. Kagura had to shed her cardigan to keep herself from sweating. Tying it down on her waist, she mounts her scooter.

The highway was quiet tonight, she noted. Not a lot of cars were zooming past her like the usual. Kagura kept her eyes on the road, going through the lit streets she had already memorized by heart.

Suddenly, she felt a drizzle on her skin.

Cautiously, she craned her neck up, and bit by bit, her goggles were cluttered with tiny raindrops. Kagura cursed inaudibly.

Nowhere near her apartment yet, Kagura had to stop somewhere and wait it out. Scanning her eyes around, she noticed a waiting shed just around the corner and led herself there. By this time, the rain had intensified and thunder rumbled violently. Her red blouse and black pants were drenched and her vision was too fuzzy. Scurrying as fast as she could, she managed to get her scooter and herself under the roof before the clatter of rain got even stronger.

Realizing that she had forgotten to grab her umbrella in the office, she smacked herself. How could she have forgotten? Exhaustion was certainly making her neglectful. It was already a little past midnight when she checked her wristwatch. Groaning, the more time she spent here, the fewer hours of proper sleep she will have. Kagura cursed at the thunderstorm once more but it replied with a flash of lightning and booming thunder, startling her.

Banging her head against the glass board, Kagura grimaced at how her luck had run out. All she wanted was for a good night’s rest back home but why hath the gods forsaken thee? Kagura swore to beat Shinpachi to a pulp the next morning for forcing her to go home.

No matter how she protested, her body was imploring her to close her eyes in the meantime. The rain was not letting up and was getting increasingly stronger by the minute. Her body was beyond logical reasoning at this point. Her eyes were about to shut when, out of the blue, a police car pulled over by the shed, alarming her. She watched carefully, through the heavy raindrops, as the car window towed down, revealing a man in uniform with distinctive taupe hair and dark crimson orbs.

“Yo,” he waved.

Kagura’s eyes could not believe her.

“What are you doing here?” She blurted.

“Doing official police business,” he replied.

Her face frowned disdainfully. “Do inspectors even go on patrols?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, with his usual coolly attitude. “What do you think?”

When she did not answer, the policeman exited the car and entered the shed. Kagura glared up at him suspiciously, hardly believing that he is actually here. When their eyes met, he responded with the usual nonchalant, impassive silence. He settled beside her, watching the blaring rainfall.

“What time are you getting home?”

“Maybe by seven or eight,” he replied.

Small talk. That was what they excelled in. Before it might not have bothered her but apparently, it was now annoying Kagura to no end. It did not satisfy her at all.

_Married couples should not often be like this, yes?_

As they both watched the rain, her mind was brainstorming any good conversation starter but she was hopelessly blank.

She sneezed and it startled both of them. Sniffling, Kagura felt another sneeze coming. She whimpered after, looking silly with puffy eyes and a red nose. She hated summer colds when everything around her was scorching and she feels like dying. She’d be damned if she would have one now. Suddenly, a coat was being draped awkwardly over her shoulders. Looking over at her husband, she smiled faintly. “Thank you, Sougo,” she whispered.

Sougo took advantage of the silence and lounged back in his seat and pull out the sleeping mask he conveniently keeps in his inner pocket. Resting it over his eyes, he sighed satisfactorily, “I’ll be here until the rain lets up,” he said, “I might be asleep by then, so just wake me up if you’re about to leave.”

Kagura glowered at him, vexed at the fact that he was the one who gets to sleep instead of her. But as the sound of clattering raindrops flooded, instead of the cold, warmth filled her. No, it was not because of Sougo’s warm uniform coat but rather something else. Just like that, her mind wandered back to the conversation she had with Gintoki and Shinpachi. _Maybe Souichirou-kun_ (Sougo) _has been saying it all along but you’re just not listening._

Her features softened quickly. _I’ll be here until the rain lets up._ It echoed in her head.

When the rain finally did let up, it was already two in the morning. Kagura shook Sougo awake gently and bid him farewell. In all honesty, she did not want to wake him up and leave but she had to. She needed sleep and he needed to work. On her way home, she made a resolve to be very diligent.

* * *

Slipping past the dark hallway, Kagura made sure to be as silent as possible.

Funnily, she didn’t even know why she didn’t bother opening the lights or why she was padding silently as possible through the hallway but in her exhaustion, she could not give a damn. All Kagura wanted was for the darkness to shroud her, blanket her, lull her into a different world that could not be bothered with reality. She yawned again profusely, for the nth time that night and stretched, limbs falling and swaying sluggishly, like a zombie.

For the past few days, she had been cooped in the studio, living off on instant ramen, ready-made bento, caffeine, and _sukonbu._ The updates on the game they had been developing for the past months were reaching its final stages and the deadline drew distressingly near. There was no time for being nitpicky and fussy about hygiene and appearances, they needed to fucking work their asses off and get it over with for their salaries and sanities. Kagura, for one, had been wearing the same pants for two fucking days. By now, it was reeking of body odor, ramen that she accidentally spilled, and sanitizer. It disgusted her to the highest, inauspicious degree. When it came to showers… well, she’d rather not talk about it.

It was outmost embarrassing when one of her co-workers found her trying to dip her upper body onto the restroom sink.

By some means, Kagura made it to the living room without bumping into something. In her half-asleep state, she shrugged off her pants and kicked it off somewhere carelessly, almost tripping in the process. Freeing her hair from a messy bun, she rubbed her throbbing head with her bony and weary hands. Her feet could hardly carry her weight anymore, aching so much that she could just collapse right then and there—and she did.

Aiming initially for the soft linen couch, she didn’t expect to crash into something hard and lumpy instead. She screeched in pain, doubled by another yelping voice, and fell haphazardly onto the floor.

When the lamp was suddenly turned on, she flinched, eyes shutting from the sudden bright light. Not bothering to get up from the floor, she curled her body like a fetus, uncaring of how ridiculous she might look. She was too _dead_ tired, fucking goddammit.

“What the actual fuck, China?” Grunted Sougo, glaring down at her.

“Turn off the light, please…” she moaned.

“About time you beg at my feet, China,” he sneered, but seeing that his wife was not saying or doing anything to retaliate in any form, he realized that something was definitely wrong.

Scrutinizing her (supposedly) laughable state, he noticed the shirt she was wearing barely reached her thighs, leaving her pale legs and butt exposed. Her vermillion hair was disheveled and sprawled all over the floor. Normally, in situations like this, he would have been turned on but seeing how utterly depleted his wife was, he repressed them, almost pitied her even.

Reaching down, he shook her shoulder, forcing her awake. “Oi! Kagura,” he called her.

It was rare for Sougo to call her by her name and so, even if she did not want to, she couldn’t help but flutter her eyes open and cast a sideways glance at him. “What?” She asked, hoarsely.

“Don’t sleep on the floor, idiot,” he scolded.

With all her left strength, she thrust herself up from the uncomfortable floor. Groggily, she was able to sit up but all her bones felt like snapping to pieces. She grunted as she rested her back on the seat of the couch. Then, it struck her. “Wait, what are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be on the night shift?”

“Can’t a cop have the day off?”

She just nodded in reply. As much as Kagura wanted to talk with him, she was just too tired to hold up a conversation anymore. Her head sank low and her eyes fluttered close. Sleep was easily lulling her in but another bout of rapping on her shoulder sent her awake, albeit barely.

“I said don’t sleep on the floor,” he repeated. “Get your ass to bed.”

She was not moving an inch which made Sougo gripe inwardly. He then crouched down and cradled her in his arms. He gently lifted her from the floor and made his way to the bedroom.

The bedroom was relatively small, modest, and minimalistic. A closet on one corner, a bedside drawer next to a queen-sized mattress that was situated by the curtained windows. There was a _chabudai_ in the middle of the room which was littered with crumpled papers, record books, and manuscripts that were probably best left ignored. He moved around carefully, as to not stir his slumbering wife. He had to admit, she looked very peaceful and beautiful despite the dark eyebags and swamping oil on her face.

His face turned into a scowl, upset at just how much careless his wife had been for her health.

When he settled her to bed, she immediately hogged the pillows. Sougo just scoffed at the pitiful sight.

As he laid down on the bed, his wife snaked a hand upon his arm and mumbled, “I wasn’t able to do the chores.”

“Just sleep.”

“I’m sorry I can’t be home,” she added.

He inched closer to her and pulled the covers over them. Her eyes were barely open but he can see that she was looking downcast and disappointed at herself. Kagura could barely stay awake and so could he—the air conditioning was at a very comforting temperature, he supposed. Sougo furrowed his brows, finding it odd that his China would apologize so freely. _The exhaustion must’ve made a few screws loose._ He patted her hand in reply. “Sleep, China,” he mumbled.

“I’ll try making it up to you, yes…” she breathed, closing her eyes.

“You’re already making up,” he said. “Only you could help me lower my tax bracket.”

She hummed in reply and let herself be lulled to sleep.

When she woke up the next day, she felt infinitely better. Maybe it was because she finally had a good night’s sleep after a few painstaking days of all-nighters and uncomfortable power naps or maybe it was because Sougo had his arm draped around her, pulling her into a tight, comforting embrace.

Warmth filled her chest once more and no, it was not because of the sunlight seeping through from the blinds.

* * *

On the rare days that both of them were home, it was relatively quiet—something that was most perplexing.

That night of a fine and charming Sunday, where life reasonably rests and resets, Kagura had been cooped up in her home office for most of the day, going through the graphics and the manuscripts sent to her just yesterday, only coming out if she needed to go to the bathroom or stack up on some snacks from the kitchen.

The workload had calmed down, much to everyone’s delight. The new updates were launched with no problems whatsoever but it didn’t mean that their work should stop there. In the past week, the game director held a meeting for the next set of updates that they had been planning. As a level designer, Kagura had been tasked to build and program a new domain for the next playing field. She and the rest of the team were given the specifics and they had already begun with the operation.

The upside of it all was that there was not a set date for the launch yet and so, they were all able to work without taking excessive overtimes and all-nighters.

Her home office was large in space but was littered with drawers, folders, corkboards full of reminders, sketches and stretched yarn, and posters, making it smaller than it seemed. Half of the time, Kagura forgot what each folder contained. Plus, everything was so horribly disorganized that if she did try organizing all of these papers, it would take her forever (and no, it is probably not an exaggeration) and she was too lazy for that. By the window was her desk, with two large monitors, complete with every file and record of their progress.

Currently, Kagura was reviewing the graphics of the domain, carefully paying attention to every detail all while munching on a steam bun.

When she tried to grab another from the plate, her fingers could only trace the air. Prying her eyes off the screen for the first time in a while, she realized that she had consumed all of it. Kagura swore she had only devoured maybe six steam buns as opposed to the dozen she stuffed on the plate—emphasis on _maybe_. Frowning, her mouth was still itching to chew on something, an unappeasable hunger in her stomach even if her stomach didn’t grumble. Checking back at her monitors, the work was barely finished and she groaned. Stress was catching up to her, she knows. It was always like this whenever she is stressed and that pattern was becoming all the more reoccurring, much to her dismay. Saving her progress for good measure, Kagura opted to leave the desk for a while.

Grabbing the plate, she exited the office, breathing in the cool and fresh air of the living room. Kagura did not realize how stuffy it was inside the office or how gloomy the lights were, even standing up from her desk disoriented her momentarily.

Kagura sauntered to the kitchen, passing by Sougo who was sitting by the counter, reviewing a workbook. She patted his head, earning a grumble from him in reply.

Opening the fridge, her frown returned when she noticed that there were no snacks available. Turning to the drawers below the counters, Kagura hoped to find some crackers or chips but there were none. The cupboards were empty of instant ramen either.

Turning back, she noticed Sougo opening a bag of chips. _Where the hell did he get that from?_ Kagura glared, irked at the fact that he had been hiding the last bag of chips in the apartment. She marched up to him, huffing and puffing in hopes that he would notice.

When he did notice, he only looked deadpan as usual. “What?” He asked, feigning innocence.

“I’ll have that, yes,” she declared.

She reached her hand out to retrieve the bag but Sougo raised it just in time. “No, you’re not having it,” he said.

Kagura wrestled for it but damn him and his fucking height. Even if she jumped, she still couldn’t reach it.

If she continued like this, she’ll never have that bag of chips and so, Kagura devised another method instead. Using her fist, she punched him in the gut, making him curve in pain. Without delay, she grabbed the bag and recoiled, a triumphant smirk plastered on her face.

“You gluttonous bitch! You’ve already ransacked the entire kitchen and yet you’re still hungry?” He snapped.

“I’m working, you bastard!” She retorted. “Food keeps me going, yes.”

When he marched up to her, Kagura made sure to defend the bag with all her life but when he managed to pin her on the counter, his hands snaked around her and wrestled to steal back the bag.

Sougo breathed sharply. “You know, I allotted an entire budget just for your food expenses, so don’t go overboard!” He hissed. “That’s enough eating and working for you.”

Kagura gawked at him dumbly. A lot of mixed feelings pranced on her mind. Sougo retreated to his stool and started munching on the chips as he carried on reading the workbook and she merely watched him do so.

Finally composing herself, she stepped away from the kitchen and returned to her office without a word.

Settling down on her desk, her eyes stared at the bright graphics on her screen but her mind was elsewhere, wandering back on Sougo. The room was too humid, too dark, too suffocating. She could not concentrate on her work anymore, it seemed. Kagura hurriedly muffled a scream escaping from her mouth, frustrated and feeling mortified all of a sudden.

_Damn it all, really._ Her mind echoed, sighing as her chin slumped atop her sprawled arms.

Work was abandoned altogether when Sougo barged inside the office carrying two cold bottles of green tea. All disdain she had towards him had dissipated when he pressed a bottle on her forehead. She then berated herself for even falling hard for him.

Kagura realized, she was close to saying those three words herself.

* * *

When Kagura finally reached out for something, her hand landed on someone’s knee.

It had been a grave mistake to consume two energy drinks in the course of the past six hours. But work was screaming at her. The deadline was mere days from now and there was too much on her plate. Kagura had been pulling all-nighters for the past three consecutive days, going over the final stages of the programming, consuming caffeine at an alarming rate. The pressure was unbearable—the work, her subordinates, the damned director, _everything_ —everything fell into her hands, everyone is relying on her.

She did not expect it, especially since pulling all-nighters was something she had grown accustomed to for a great deal of her life. Right in the middle of work, her heart began palpitating and her body was shaking uncontrollably. At first, she tried dismissing it, focusing on finishing her work until her vision began to blur then suddenly, it blackened. The next second, she found herself shoving all her work aside and sinking terribly onto the floor.

She panicked, unknowing what to do.

This was not normal. Why is she feeling this way? Why her, of all people? For the first time in her life, Kagura felt tremendously afraid.

Falling, the world distorted into something bleak, fuzzy, and terrifying. Crumbling apart, not even a croak could be heard, not even a muscle dare moved. Frozen and limp, all that was left was her damning breath.

Kagura did not know how long she had been lying on the ground when every second felt like infinite hours ticking away. She was still quivering and dripping cold sweat. There was something trapped on her throat and she felt like throwing up. Her mind raced, like a bullet train, but it all fell blank.

Another shaky breath, it all felt too difficult for Kagura. All of it was in a haze, the ceiling, the desk, her computer, even her own hands. She was breathing too fast for her good, ragged, and sometimes almost forced. Kagura could not lift a finger nor move her arm, could not bend her knees nor crane her neck. Paralyzed beyond comprehension, she could not believe she became this pitiful, weak, and pathetic.

No, she cannot let this defeat her. Kagura was stronger than this—whatever this is.

Measuredly, she continued to breathe and after a long while, she could gradually feel herself leveling. Her heart still palpitated, her body still churned and trembled but Kagura was calming down. Her hands snaked up on her hair, gripping it tightly for no reason. She wanted to feel something, using every bit of strength she had left. Her long vermillion locks cascaded, concealing her pale face, blanketing her coiled body.

She stayed there for a few more minutes, composing herself. The worse was over—she kept telling herself—which reassured her greatly. Finally regaining strength, Kagura bolstered herself up, rather groggily, reaching for the chair but her hand landed on something else instead.

Peering up, she could see Sougo glaring down at her.

_Fuck._ Cursing, Kagura didn’t realize that he had entered the office. Questions started to form in her head— _why is he here? Since when did he come here? Did he see it?_ Averting her gaze, she looked at the computer monitor; all her work was still displayed on the screen, all the papers were sprawled all over, her notes were still piled on top of the keyboard, the plate of butter biscuits was left untouched. The time read four-twenty in the morning. _I’ve been incapacitated for only ten minutes?_ She could not believe it either. To Kagura, it felt like forever.

“Morning,” she was able to croak out.

“Why were you on the floor?” He asked.

“Felt like napping, yes,” she lied. Kagura felt relieved that Sougo did not witness her in her most pathetic state, or else she’d be even more damned.

“You idiot!” He was furious.

Her legs were still weak, but at least she managed to reach for her chair. Sitting back, she never felt more uncomfortable. Every part of her body ached and felt cramped. Nothing changed at all, but at least she could now function. Ignoring Sougo’s presence, Kagura pulled herself to her desk. Hunching over to her computer screen, she hovered her fingers above the keyboard, racking her brain to remember what she had been doing before her untimely collapse, but her hands were instantly snatched away.

She craned her neck up, coming face to face with her husband. Sougo looked dead serious which, admittingly, terrified her. After that sudden collapse, Kagura felt a little more vulnerable than she’d like to admit and his expression was not helping one bit.

“You just had a fucking panic attack and you’re still trying to work?” He was _fuming_.

She blinked once, then twice. “That’s what it was?”

Sougo facepalmed.

To her defense, Kagura did not know that was a panic attack.

“I’ve just had about enough! You need to rest,” he said, fiddling with her computer. Kagura grumbled and attempted to stop him but his cold crimson irises bore into her dull ones. Even with her hazy vision, she could see that his eyes were bleeding concern. Yielding, she let him do what he wanted.

After the monitor faded into black, Sougo grabbed her wrist, a little gentler this time. Kagura stood up from the chair and followed him out of the office. Sougo led her to the kitchen where he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and handed it to her.

The cold water soothed her throat. Kagura felt infinitely better.

Sougo emerged from her office once more, with her phone in hand. When Kagura finally noticed, she wanted to protest but the man trapped her with one arm. While Kagura attempted to shove his arm away, he thumbed through the phone with intent.

Raising it over to his ear, he waited for the other end to pick up. “Shimura,” he addressed immediately.

_“Oh, Okita-san?”_ Shinpachi’s sounded surprised. _“Is something the matter?”_

“China’s sick… she can’t come into work today,” he replied.

At this, Kagura froze. _Did he just make up a fake excuse?_ She stared up at him, looking puzzled. She hissed at him, “what the actual hell, you bastard? Did you just—?"

Immediately, Sougo firmly placed his hand over her mouth. He brought the phone away in an ample distance and glared down at her. “Yes, I’m telling Shimura that you’re taking a leave because you’re supposed to be sick now, act sick,” he hissed back.

Placing the phone back to his ear, Sougo responded with his usual offhand tone. “Yeah, I’ll keep an eye on her,” he replied.

_“I’m sorry this happened,”_ Shinpachi said apologetically. “ _But, could I ask a favor Okita-san? Kagura-chan has the final output on her computer. I can’t access it here without her password, could you please ask her for it? Also, is it okay if I drop by later? There are some needed manuscripts that she’s got with her…”_

Sougo wanted to groan. The damned Shimura was asking for a lot.

He did not want to prolong the conversation and so he just kept nodding and agreeing.

When he finished the call, he released his wife and handed the phone to her. “Shimura might be coming by sometime today so when he does, I need you to act sick or else you’re screwed,” he said.

Kagura glared at him. “I could just go to work, yes?” She argued. “There are a lot of things to be done.”

“No,” he replied, firmly. “Shimura told me to keep an eye on you and that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.”

“What about your work?” She asked.

“I can just tell them my injuries still hurts like a bitch,” Sougo replied.

Briefly, Kagura remembered why he had been uncharacteristically home for the past few days. Her husband had been shot during a confrontation, but thankfully, nothing vital had been hit. Supposedly, he was to report for duty today and Kagura did not want to trouble him just because of a panic attack.

“Kagura,” he called.

Attention back at him, she was a bit taken aback to find him gazing down at her seriously. Sougo rested his hands on either side of her frame. “The next time you have a panic attack, remember to breathe deeply,” he advised. “Focus on something and breathe, you hear?”

She simply nodded.

Sougo finally softened his features. “Now, let’s get you to bed.”

* * *

It came to a point where the weather had become too unbearably cold, even without the flurry. Outside, the quiet neighborhood could not be any more picturesque. As hues of yellow, red, and brown danced with the autumn breeze, fluttering and whelming the sidewalk, the sky of lavender and adoring orange drenched everything in sight. The sun was finally taking its last bow, bidding the day farewell and welcoming the night.

As Kagura stared out her window, she basked in the sunlight. For the past months, Kagura rarely saw the sunlight, dedicated to work until the dark wistfully passes her by. Everything before her, these bright colors, strangely reminded her of coffee, crimson, and creeping sand. She suddenly blushed at the thought.

These were the days when Kagura felt unusually at ease and she welcomed it with open arms, savoring every moment to its fullest.

Wrapped in a white sweatshirt and loose training pants, with a mug of warm tea perched on the windowsill, her cerulean eyes absorbed the scenery in front of her. Behind her, quiet and calming music played from the stereo. As the night gradually settled, she did not dare move. She was still, at peace, forgetting every bit of her troubles. It was just her in this silent sanctuary.

When the stars made themselves known, Kagura had already finished her mug of tea. She stared up the night sky, still blithe from everything around her, and gazed at the stars. It was a childish act, yes. But sometimes, being childlike did not hurt every once in a while.

Kagura remembered watching the stars with Gin-chan and her then pet dog, Sadaharu. She had just settled into his home, hardly adjusting to life in Kyoto. Those nights when she could not sleep, she would slip past the living room and sit idly on the balcony, gazing at the stars. She would wonder, back then, if her Mami were there, watching from above. Gintoki caught her in the act sometimes and join her. Together, they counted the stars until they fell asleep.

She continued that habit until she grew up. Real life caught up with her by then. She was no longer under Gintoki’s roof, she was no longer inside Gintoki’s classroom—before she knew it, she was finishing computer programming and releasing indie games with Shinpachi. All of a sudden, she was signing a contract and was working for a gaming company. She no longer gazed up the stars but rather, she gazed at LED screens and glass boards instead.

Suddenly, the door opened, followed by, “I’m home.”

Sougo was now assigned to the day shift, much to her delight. They got to interact more frequently, even after his promotion and her stressful job. Kagura’s eyes turned away from the scenery outside and to the living room, waiting for him to emerge.

Then, realization struck her. Kagura had not started on supper nor did any housework done during the day. _Fuck,_ she cursed inwardly.

“Uhm… welcome home,” she greeted quietly.

Kagura turned to the wall clock which read nine in the evening. She mentally smacked herself. Had she really been staring out the window for three hours? What a dutiful wife she was, she sarcastically remarks.

She panicked. She could smell him coming to berate her from a mile away. Not that she cared so much about him or traditional marriage roles but as she matured (heavy words, yes) over the years, Kagura realized that every once in a while, she needed to give and take. Now that work was calm and she had the weekends off, she might as well take care of the apartment—maybe even practice her cooking.

“Huh, just as I thought, you didn’t cook supper,” he noted, taking a glance at their empty kitchen.

“I meant to, yes,” she replied while turning off the stereo, “I just got… distracted, yes.”

Sougo shed off his coat and threw the keys onto the counter. Kagura fidgeted in the middle of the living room, a tad bit guilt-ridden that she hadn’t done her duty (not that she was told to do it but it was, at this point, supposedly innate).

“I’ll try to whip up something real quick, yes,” she rushed to the kitchen. Kagura needed to compensate, at least. Even if she hated Sougo most of the time, he was still her husband and she still had an ounce of care.

“No need,” he replied. He followed her to the kitchen, raising the plastic bag in his hand, “I bought supper instead.”

She stared up at him curiously. Sougo smirked, “I had a hunch,” he tapped his temple. “‘Ahh, that idiot wife of mine must be too lazy to do anything’, so I bought some orange chicken on the way home.”

Kagura swung her fist at him but he dodged easily.

During supper, they were at it with their usual banter and occasional scuffles in between. In the end, Kagura could admit, but not out loud (she’d damn herself if he hears of this), that this was the best day off she had in the longest time.

Wordlessly, Sougo inched closer to her and pulled her into his arms. “You’re warm,” he muttered, burying his face onto the crook of her neck.

It was ten-thirty in the evening and both of them had settled to bed.

Kagura is shocked, to say the least—actually, shocked was an understatement.

Composing herself, she cleared her throat. “What brought this on?” She asked.

He did not reply.

The room was filled with silence.

Kagura was trying to keep still her beating heart. Sougo was not one for romantic gestures, such as this, and whenever he does, it always caught her off guard. Even now, after almost two years of marriage, she still blushed furiously, her heart drummed and butterflies flew around her stomach.

Then it hit her. As her hands landed on his, it was freezing. Kagura smacked herself mentally for the second time that night—Sougo hated the cold.

This was, definitely, the best day off ever.

* * *

When Kagura received a call from Hijikata Toshirou, she did not hesitate to abandon her work and come running.

Relapses are grim. All of them learned the hard way.

When curdling blood dripped down the bleached sheets and a pale hand struggled to clamber, reaching for nothing but air. Whatever endowed becomes exhausted and debts were due. When the pills were finally too hard to swallow—gagging and gasping, grasping life even if the pain numbed like death. When something curled began to shake and fall apart, unable to grasp the reality denied in the first place. Adrift and abandoned, left in despair, hands grasped the glass window—praying and swallowing. When the eyes finally admitted surrender, the blood and the water collide, trickling down the sallow skin under the translucent light.

She should have remembered. There was no excuse for it.

Sliding the _shoji_ door open, everything around her blurred. Kagura walked in, cautiously. Hijikata met her eyes and he just nodded in his direction. The tall man held a cigarette packet and looked just as lost.

He excused himself, mumbling something about going for a smoke. Kagura knew that this was his damning coping mechanism and she did not stop him. The earlier he dies because of his habits, the better anyway. Kagura spared one last glance at him before turning away.

It had hurt her, seeing him like this. It had hurt her even when she knew nothing will change whatever she does. A broken heart cannot heal if it doesn’t want to be healed.

Kagura was there a lot of times but she could never get used to the sight of pooling blood, the sound of severe coughing, and the damned smile. Whenever that hand went up and clutched hers gently, it made her shiver. Kagura had been there—it was all too much, to witness it for the second time in her life.

Tapping on his shoulder, Kagura observed him calmly.

Sougo stirred but he kept his head sunk atop his folded arms. Several bottles, a glass of unfinished alcohol, and a packet of untouched spicy crackers rested beside him. Kagura watched for a few more moments before sighing in defeat.

He was definitely wasted.

Kagura turned to the barkeeper, paying for everything herself. The old barkeeper smiled sympathetically but said nothing.

Sauntering back to him, she whacks Sougo in the shoulder repeatedly. He was awake in no time, grunting at her in reply. Kagura remained silent and hoisted him up on his feet, slinging his arm over her shoulder. They staggered out of the bar and into the night, the cold autumn wind slapping their faces.

“China…” he slurred.

“What?” She grunted, heaving him up.

“Keep me sane…” he mumbled.

The first time she saw Okita Mitsuba was when she was just starting high school. Gintoki wanted to pay her a visit and had tagged her along. At first, she was surprised that the damned neighborhood bully had an angel for a sister but they got along well. She was living alone then—her younger brother had to move away for college—but she occasionally had visits from the high school teacher and his adopted daughter.

It was a shock for her when she learned that Mitsuba, at that time, had just recovered from tuberculosis. Immediately, she hated Gin-chan for introducing her. Everything about that kind woman reminded her of her late mother, who died the same disease when she was still young. Kagura was left with longing again.

After graduating high school, Kagura didn’t see her again until after she and Sougo crossed paths again four years ago. She had just graduated from college, filled with many ambitions for the future. Before long, Kagura learned that Mitsuba had a relapse and was currently in the hospital.

This time, it was worse as the drugs were not working as they should.

_Drug-resistant TB,_ she remembered Gintoki explaining, _caused by the TB bacteria the remained in her body_. The treatment was more meticulous, more painful, and much costly. Everyone was willing to have a hand in her treatment but it was not enough. Her health continued to deteriorate as the months passed by until she could not take it anymore.

In her final moments, Kagura had been there, outside the intensive care unit. Gintoki was beside her, looking strong as ever— _it was like her mother all over again._ Kagura watched through the window as Sougo bid his final goodbyes. His co-workers were also there, trying hard not to cry.

Mitsuba was very lucky to have all of these people with her.

Three years after her death, it still pained them and Kagura was privy to this pain.

“You don’t have to tell me, yes,” she replied. “When I married you, I was prepared for something like this.”

Sougo cupped her cheek and pulled her closer, kissing her forehead sloppily.

* * *

Supposedly, Saturdays were her off days but that had to be violated to get the work done.

It was nothing extreme. Some bugs along with launching the new updates needed emergency maintenance. She had been called on a whim that morning because of an issue with the update but nothing that cannot be fixed.

There was still some daylight as she got home which fueled her good mood. Suddenly, ideas ran through her head—plans, all for tonight. A smile crept up her lips, feeling giddy of the free time she was granted. However, the place was oddly quiet when she entered the door.

Trudging to the living room, she spotted Sougo on the couch, hunched over and earbuds lodged in his ears. He looked incredibly focused on something and it quickly piqued her curiosity. Creeping up from behind him, it did not seem as though he noticed her—another uncharacteristically odd thing. Sougo was alert at any given moment, even if asleep. Usually, he notices right away whenever she comes home, readying another snide remark to greet her by the doorway but nothing came, even if she was already hovering above him.

Kagura’s eyes almost bulged out of her sockets when she realized Sougo was playing the game she had been developing.

The very root cause of all her agony of the past months. The very product of all those painful all-nighters and panic attacks (yes, more than she cared to admit, she had another episode, at the office this time). The very thing that was keeping her an asset to the economy for the past year. Her very pride and passion.

There was a cheeky grin on her lips. How could she not smile? Sougo looked very engrossed while playing, so much that he directed all his focus on his mobile screen, shutting off the world around him.

Sougo looked like a gaming pro, successfully going through every wave with a careful strategy. In the end, he had won easily and was sighing in contentment. It was taking all of Kagura’s strength not to burst out laughing then and there.

Going through the cutscene, Sougo finally relaxed. Kagura took this as an opportunity to pounce at him, tackling him in an embrace. “What are you doing?” She laughed.

If Sougo was in any way surprised, it vanished the moment it surfaced. His eyes detached from the screen and turned to Kagura, frowning at the mischievous grin she had on her face.

“This game is way too complicated,” he criticized. “Took me a while to grasp the controls and understand the whole premise. You’re doing a bad job at explaining things to the player, it leaves them overwhelmed with all that drivel and unnecessary monologues.”

Kagura pouted. “That’s not my fault anymore,” she said, “I’m not the one who came up with the dialogue and the controls, I only input and upgrade them, yes.”

“Still, I’m not enthralled with it.”

“Then how come you’re already on the third story?”

Sougo averted his gaze. “Might as well finish what I started, right?” He grumbled.

The smile went back to her lips. Taking her seat beside him, she snatched away the smartphone. Thumbing through the menu, “so which servants do you have?”

The smile fell into a scowl instantly. “What the fuck?” She grimaced, “all of them are fucking sadists!”

“Don’t look at me, I’m not the one who decides which servants I get to have.”

“Elisabeth Bathory, Vlad the Impaler, Gilles de Rais, Caligula, Jekyll and Hyde,” she read. “You’re amassing a fucking sadist army, yes!”

“Is that so?” He smirked, “suppose I am building an army of sadists, that’s not my fault really, that’s yours.”

“I’m not the one who decides them either, yes!” Kagura retorted. “You stupid sadist, you even attract sadists in a damn game!”

Sougo grabbed his phone from her hand and thumbed through the menu, resuming the game. “I’m surprised you even know of these people, China,” he scoffed, “I thought your brain is just filled your crappy _sukonbu_.”

She snapped, “I’m not stupid, you stupid sadist!”

“Yeah, right,” he only scoffed again.

Whatever emotion she might have felt for him—be it love, care, devotion—all of it was thrown out of the window in an instant. There was the urge to strangle him, to beat his ass to a pulp, to throw him out of the window and leave him to die in the middle of winter. Kagura might as well poison him with tonight’s supper and hide his body somewhere in a dump and make a run for it with her widow’s pension, like Belle Gunness, another historic sadist—in the end, she was at a win.

When Sougo leaned closer, her urges swelled. She was glaring daggers, hands itching to kill him. He then, put his arm around her, in a chokehold. “Plotting my death, China? Now that’s just too harsh,” he feigned hurt. “You’re hurting this poor policeman’s feelings.”

“Stupid sadist, who cares about what you feel?” She grumbled.

“I thought you should. You’re my damn wife,” he shrugged. “So, what’s for supper? It’s your turn tonight.”

“Tofu soup… with tomatoes this time.”

Sougo scowled. Apparently, it was one of two things his wife could cook without it tasting like death.

“Oh look, you have enough tokens to summon. You should try your luck. We’ve actually added some new heroes today, yes.” She changed topics. Apparently, she did not want to have him yapping at her because of her limited cooking abilities. “Maybe you’ll get someone who’s not a sadist.”

“No promises.”

When the summoning menu appeared on the screen, Kagura blanched and Sougo stilled.

Kagura laughed awkwardly, “I should start on supper, yes!” She detached herself from Sougo and quickly stood up but he caught her arm and yanked her back. “What the hell?”

She fell on top of him but it did not seem to bother the man. Instead, Sougo trapped her in between his arms. “China,” he breathed into her ear. “Care to explain?”

Kagura’s face scrunched in utter despair. She had forgotten about that one crucial detail that which isn’t supposed to be discovered, at all costs, by him.

What was it? See, it continues to baffle Kagura how some people tend to over-romanticize or embellish noteworthy individuals, altering one’s viewpoint on a figure of a remnant of a time long past. This particular game was one of the examples.

“Why the heck is Okita Souji looking like me?”

“I don’t know… I’m not really part of the character design team, yes,” she replied, quite awfully.

“China…” Sougo knew she was a horrible liar and besides, it was just too much of a coincidence.

The only difference between him and ‘Okita Souji’ was the character’s long hair tied up in a high ponytail. He was also dressed traditionally—a red _uwagi,_ grey _hakama_ , and a beige scarf adorning his neck. Strapped in his _obi_ were his _katana_ and _wakizashi._ A true samurai, indeed. However, everything else just screamed the image of her husband.

“I swear, I didn’t know!” Kagura argued. “When the illustrator came with the final designs, I was surprised myself!”

Even if Sougo didn’t believe her, it was actually the absolute truth. Kagura remembered spatting out her drink during the meeting at that time. Shinpachi could not speak either. Both of them were frozen and the director had been quite concerned.

Several theories ran through her mind but none of them were proven. Eventually, she tried to forget it and focus on her work instead. It had worked—she indeed forgot about it for the meantime, until _this_ showed up.

“I see,” Sougo replied though still not convinced. “Well, let’s hope I summon him then.”

By the time the summoning procedure was finished, Kagura was doubling over in laughter and Sougo was cursing repeatedly. He never wanted to smash his damn phone more than now.

Rather than Okita Souji, he summoned Hijikata Toshizou instead.

* * *

It was one of those hell weeks she managed to overcome with sheer grit and desperation (and tons of caffeine). Coming home in the middle of the night, she shrugged the snow that pooled on her coat and relished in the warmth of her apartment.

She hugged the door, the wall, and even the shoe cabinet, welcoming herself home.

Kagura wanted nothing more than a hot bath and some new clothes. She was wearing the same pants for almost three days and had been altering between two shirts. Her face was terribly lifeless with dark circles and chapped lips. Her long vermillion hair was stinky and oily and maybe tangled somewhere down. For the past few days, she had been living off on dousing her face, neck, and armpits in the bathroom sink—it was a good thing she had brought some deodorant for emergency purposes. God, she would be horrified and embarrassed if her armpits started smelling like a corpse.

Walking to the living room, the light from the kitchen piqued her. Peering from where she stood, she saw Sougo drinking a bottle of tea while tapping his fingers on the counter. He was listening to music as usual.

When his eyes landed on her, Kagura veered away.

He could not see her like this.

As she headed for the bedroom, Sougo’s hand caught up, halting her.

“Welcome home,” he muttered, bending down to kiss her cheek.

When she realized this, Kagura immediately moved away before his lips could touch her. “I haven’t showered yet!” She blurted.

She did not have time to see Sougo’s reaction as she rushed inside the bedroom.

Huffing and puffing, she found herself completing another lap three nights later.

Sometimes, during the nights wherein she could not sleep, she slips past the quiet apartment. Wearing her sneakers, Kagura goes for a run around the neighborhood.

Gintoki had suggested when she was younger that she should tire herself out so she’d be able to sleep. So, it was not an unusual occurrence to find a young woman jogging around the area at three in the morning. It worked sometimes—she was able to catch a few winks after a quick shower. In some instances, she would stay out until sunrise, watching as the daylight gradually settled.

This time, it had been the latter.

Throwing away an empty water bottle in the trash, she resolves to return to the apartment and sleep in. It was her day off and she was going to make the most of it.

Entering her apartment, she shrugs off her parka and her sneakers immediately. Despite the winter, Kagura managed to perspire. Quietly, she tottered inside the bedroom, grabbing a fresh set of clothes from her cabinet. Kagura then strode to the bedside drawer and fished out a mudpack.

What she did not notice right away was Sougo’s hand grabbing her elbow.

He dragged her down to bed, trapping her in his arms.

“What the actual hell?” She griped, attempting to shuffle away from him.

However, he only pulled tighter. In his half-asleep state, his lips were kissing every part of her it reached (mainly her shoulder and neck). Kagura only struggled all the more to get out of his grasp. “I’m sweating, yes! Let go!” She protested.

When his grip finally loosened, Kagura immediately took her leave.

The next time it had been like this, was two nights later. She was in her home office, reviewing the concept map she struggled to piece together. Every bit of important detail was connected by a piece of yarn but for Kagura, it still did not make much sense.

Something was missing, she knew of it.

She hadn’t noticed the time. Sougo just barged inside her work office, still clad in his uniform and coat. He was obviously annoyed and seeing that his wife was too busy staring at a diagram on her wall to acknowledge him annoyed him more. Of course, she didn’t care.

Sougo walked up to her. “I brought some supper,” he said, “I had a feeling you wouldn’t cook again.”

No response.

Kagura was muttering something, incomprehensible and almost inaudible to his ears. She held a picture up, moving through the map with one eye. She stops abruptly, turning to recover another picture instead.

“Kagura,” Sougo called.

It seemed to gain her attention, albeit hardly. Kagura spared him a glance, then she realized. “Oh shit, you’re home—I didn’t cook again, fuck!”

“No need, I brought some food over,” he replied. “Let’s eat. Surely you can pause work to eat.”

Dinner was silent so to say. Kagura was busy going through her phone as she ate. Apparently, Shinpachi had mailed her the final manuscripts for the new event for the game. A murder mystery story that was not much thrilling, in her opinion, but the new characters make up for it. She made sure to keep a close eye on the illustrators this time, to prevent the ‘Okita Souji’ incident from happening again.

Eventually, she learned the whys and hows. The illustrator, Katsura Kotaro, was arrested for something stupid and found inspiration for the Shinsengumi characters from the police officers who arrested him that time. It didn’t help when he learned that the names were almost too similar.

She was reading the manuscript, frowning at how it was easily predictable even from reading only the fourth chapter, out of twelve. But at least, she had a better grasp of the situation.

Again, Kagura failed to realize that Sougo had already closed in, kissing her temple. Instinctively, she moved away, looking at him with furrowed brows. He muttered about something she couldn’t quite catch, mind still wrapped up on work.

When he left the kitchen and disappeared into the bedroom, she realized that he was entrusting her the damn dishes.

_Maybe Souichirou-kun_ (Sougo) _has been saying it all along but you’re just not listening._ It echoed in her mind, making her accidentally drop the plate onto the sink.

“Fuck, I really screwed up, yes.” She didn’t realize she had been muttering those words.

“Screwed up what?”

Turning the faucet off, she faced him. He had a bottle of tea in hand and was staring down at her questioningly.

She shook her head. “Nothing, yes.”

He took a quick swig from the bottle. “If you say so,” he replied.

They did not move though.

Sougo was leaning down again, aiming for her lips this time. Kagura did not register what was happening until his lips were centimeters away from hers. Her heart skipped a beat and butterflies started fluttering around her stomach. She tilted her head back on instinct. “My lips are chapped, yes,” she protested. _I did it again, damn._

“Don’t care,” he muttered, pressing their lips together.

Kagura had to admit, her chest was filled with so much warmth that she felt like on fire.

“Kiss me back, dammit!” He hissed through their pressed lips.

She kissed back, fervently.

* * *

Work was light and breezy. The seconds ticked by conventionally. There were no deadlines, no urgent assignments, no flailing drafts, or piling illustrations. It wasn’t one of those frantic hell weeks where they lose their sanities and sense of being and sell their souls to the Devil.

When lunch came, Kagura was most thrilled. Saving her progress, she was about to head out for lunch when something cold was perched above her head. Instinctively, she threw her head back and readied a fist but she stopped herself upon realizing it was one of her co-workers.

“Dai-chan!”

“You could use some refreshments, Okita-san.”

Kagura smiled, accepting the bottle of strawberry milk.

Before working for Lightworks Studio, she had already married and changed her surname to Okita. To most of her co-workers, she is known to them as Okita Kagura (the only exception being Shinpachi whom she had been friends with since she was still named Sakata Kagura). Only the HR Department and Shinpachi knew of her married status, mostly because she was solely focused on working when in the office and didn’t tell details about her life (not like anyone asked anyway). Besides, she was more interested in the scoop on other people.

“You going to lunch now?” He asked.

To all her co-workers, Kagura is known to be meticulous and serious when working but open-hearted and sassy when not. All of them adored and respected her and she returned the same amount to each one. It was not a surprise to find her getting along with everyone on the team.

The afternoon passed by quickly. Both Kagura and Shinpachi were in the meeting room for most of it, going through the setup of the next game updates. The room was littered with papers and smelled of marker ink, the whiteboard was filled with scribbles and voices chorused, going through each draft and spouting suggestions. In the end, there was not much brainstorming to begin with. Kagura and Shinpachi ended up slumped in their seats, drained from the fruitless meeting.

At least, they did not have anything to worry about yet.

“Okita-nee, Shimura-nii,” called Seita, the youngest member of their team.

Craning their heads in his direction, the young man could see how utterly exhausted both of them were. “Some of us planned on going to the karaoke tonight, you wanna join?” He invited.

Shinpachi smiled apologetically, “I’m sorry Seita-kun, I promised my sister a family dinner,” he replied.

Turning to the team leader, Seita hoped that she would agree but her face said otherwise, “I’m sorry too, Seita-chan, I have plans for tonight, yes.”

“Eh? Is Okita-san going on a date?” Asked a co-worker who happened to catch the conversation.

Kagura flushed. “No, no… it’s not like that, yes.”

“You’re blushing—you’re definitely going on a date!” Seita exclaimed.

They were almost not wrong, per se. It was by no means a date but she and Sougo agreed to eat out tonight and buy some groceries after. Typical errands, as she would dub it—it was just the typical errands.

The banter continued. There was not much work anyway so they were free to chat and be laid-back. Kagura attempted to escape the conversation but word got around quickly and they began bombarding her with questions. It wasn’t every day that their team leader was going out on dates—they didn’t really know if she was still single or in a relationship anyway.

_This is invasion of privacy, yes!_ Kagura screamed inwardly.

When the clock struck five, Kagura was not rushing it or else, it will give her co-workers the wrong idea. She clocked out at five-thirty, purposely delaying to finish her work, and made a run for it down the stairs.

Reaching the bus stop, she finally stopped running, failing miserably to catch the bus. She was panting heavily, cursing her luck. Another bus would not be arriving for fifteen more minutes which was more distressing. Her co-workers would be coming down at any moment and she cannot have that. They will never stop pestering her about her “date” for tonight until they see it for themselves.

“O-Okita-san!” A voice popped up out of nowhere.

Snapping her head back, she found Dai running towards her. “Phew! You haven’t left yet!” He gasped.

“Dai-chan?”

He was desperately gasping for breaths. Dai was not the healthiest person after all. Despite the cold weather, he was sweating profusely. Kagura thought he must have run a long way.

Finally recovering, he handed out a bottle of unfinished strawberry milk. “Y-You forgot,” he said.

Taking the bottle, she smiled in gratitude. Dai blushed and averted his gaze.

Suddenly, Kagura was concerned. “You good?” She asked.

“O-Okita-san!” He blurted, immediately straightening up, “I know you have a date tonight but I mustn’t let you.”

“Why not? I mean, not that it’s really a date.”

She was taking a swig of the strawberry milk when, “I can’t bear the thought of you dating a guy who isn’t me, so go out with me,” Dai professed.

Kagura spat out her drink—and most of it landed on the poor man’s clothes.

Of course, she couldn’t believe it. Kagura gaped at him incredulously, still unable to register what was happening. They stayed there, frozen, for what seemed like forever. She looked like she wanted to say something, but her mouth clamps shut the moment it opens.

“Dai-chan, I’m really sorry but I can’t—”

Dai snorted, “I know I’m not handsome or cute and I’m not the healthiest guy but it would be an absolute blessing knowing that I’ll have you as my girlfriend, so please.”

Kagura scratched the back of her ear. “It’s not that, Dai-chan… you’re cool but I’m actually m—”

“Oh? Cheating on me with one of your co-workers, China? You’re really hurting this policeman’s feelings.”

Kagura snapped her head back, shocked to find Sougo walking towards them. His expression was impassive but there was disdain in his voice. Dai was also surprised and found himself straightening up.

“Sougo? Wait, I thought we were meeting at the shopping district?”

“I thought I told you I’ll be picking you up instead?” Sougo furrowed his brows.

“Really?” She mumbled questioningly. Briefly, she remembered the conversation they had that morning. She was running late and was rushing to the bus stop at that time so it quickly slipped away from her memory.

Sougo hummed with disappointment. “You’re neglecting your husband and cheating on him? You’re really the lowest of the low, China.”

“What the fuck, bastard,” she grumbled. “You don’t have any fucking trust in me?”

Still unable to process this shocking information, Dai pointed his finger tremblingly at the policeman. “H-Husband? Okita-san, you’re—”

“Pointing your finger on a policeman? I might arrest you for that… also, for attempting to steal my wife.”

Dai withdrew his hand immediately. Then, it sank. “W-Wait, s-she’s your wife?!”

“Yeah, she’s my wife. Do we have a problem?” He was glaring daggers at the poor man.

“No! No problems, sir!”

Kagura sighed exasperatedly. “Damn you! Don’t go abusing your power as a policeman to terrorize innocent civilians, yes!” She berated.

“Oi, I should be the one angry, you China pig,” he grimaced. “You keep on attracting other men when you’re already fucking married.”

When the bus came a few minutes later, Dai was already forgotten in their banter. They climbed up the vehicle, still cursing at each other. When the bus left, the poor man was left standing there in the middle of the snowing pavement, still trembling and utterly devastated.

That Monday, when Kagura came to work, the entire team was bombarding her with questions about her husband.

* * *

Kagura could not sleep.

When she opened her eyes to be met with only the same darkness, her face sank into a frustrated scowl.

For the past hour, she was twisting and turning around the bed, tousling and crumpling the bedsheets, but Kagura could not find a comfortable position. It was already half past midnight when she checked her phone. It was a very dark and quiet hour, only impaled by the brightness of her damn phone. Her eyes adjusted quite poorly, flinching, and burying her head onto the pillow immediately.

Sleep still failed to come, even after burying herself under the duvet. It was not because of the cold nor because of any disturbing thoughts. Everything was still relatively fine. No sense in hindering herself from much-wanted sleep.

All effort into sleeping was futile. Kagura eventually sat up, her eyes adjusting in her reluctant wake. She crawled off the bed and navigated her way out of the dim room. As she opened the door, she was greeted with the eerie sound from the hinges and the light from the kitchen, rousing her all the more awake. Kagura griped at her carelessness.

When her eyes landed in the kitchen, she saw a lone figure sitting on the counter and their eyes met.

Sougo was still clad in his uniform. He looked very tired but uneasy, she noticed.

“What time did you come in?” She asked.

He did not answer.

Making her way through the kitchen, she went to get a bottle of water from the fridge. _Perhaps, some water might help, yes,_ she thought. Kagura settled on the stool beside Sougo, taking a swill from the bottle.

There was a packet of paracetamol perched on the counter and an empty glass. Kagura’s eyes skimmed over it before turning elsewhere. “Something bad happened?” She asked.

“None of your business,” it came out rather harshly.

It was one of those moments again. His damn brooding mood of his, always erratic and troublesome. Kagura knew better than try to make him speak. Sometimes, she was in the receiving end of these moods and although it angered her as well, she learned to deal with it over time. He’ll eventually snap out of it and everything will go back to normal.

Kagura left the stool, not wanting to deal with a brooding Sougo, especially in this ungodly hour of the night. Suddenly craving for some tea, she scuffled through the kitchen, preparing two mugs and pulling out two teabags. The electric kettle was then, filled with water from the sink. As the kitchen was filled with a soft whirring sound, Kagura watched, counting the seconds.

Behind her, Sougo is watching, following her every movement. The pain reliever was slowly working and he could feel himself getting better but he was still clutching his head, trying to suppress the lingering pain.

By the time Kagura gave him his mug, his head felt better. Still, not a word was said.

His eyes drifted towards her direction, watching as she walked away. He reveled in her, in this light. She looked transcendent, even if he couldn’t admit it. Kagura was clad in a thin sweater that accentuated her voluptuous figure. Her pale legs were exposed. Long, vermillion locks cascaded freely down her back and over her shoulders. Her cerulean eyes were piercing, her every feature glowing—

Sougo never felt more intoxicated.

Abandoning his mug of tea, he walked up to her and wrapped her in a tight embrace.

“What’s this for?” She asked. Now she was the one annoyed.

He was trailing kisses down her chin, her neck, then to her shoulder. “You can really make a guy crazy,” he whispered. “What the fuck, China. What’d you do to me?”

“Finally admitted that you’re at my mercy?”

“As if,” he muttered, biting her shoulder.

Kagura grimaced. If she doesn’t stop him, he will definitely leave a mark. She immediately shifted away. “Call me ‘Your Majesty’ first, then maybe I’ll let you, yes,” she smirked.

He ignored her and went for her neck.

She doesn’t stop him this time.

* * *

Why was she hiding out in the bathroom?

There was no telling how long she was inside already. It was not like she loved hanging out inside bathrooms either. Today, she had to go to work as usual, and probably, she was already running late. Kagura had finished showering nearly an hour ago. Her hair was already dry and tied in a low ponytail. She already shitted herself about an hour and a half ago. Her stomach was growling in hunger from depriving herself of breakfast for too long already. Surely, she was not having another breakdown. Clearly, nothing was wrong—so why?

She fidgeted, clutching the hem of her towel. Currently, she stood in front of the mirror, shifting between the sink and her reflection. Muttering incomprehensible and inaudible words, Kagura felt like shutting down then and there but she kept convincing herself—she really needed to get dressed, she needed to get out of there, she needed to fucking _breathe._

No, this was no panic attack—but it might be. There was no mistaking the mess that was her mental state right now.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, followed by a muffled voice, “China, you’ve been in there for three goddamn hours. You still breathing?”

Kagura panicked. Immediately, she rampaged inside the bathroom. Cold sweat was dripping from her neck and down her spine. Her heart was beating too fast for her to catch up and she was panting heavily.

Another knock came, “China? What the hell is going on in there?”

There was no choice.

Kagura padded to the door and slowly opened it. She glanced up at Sougo, who was now dressed in his uniform and looking suspicious, and grinned awkwardly. “Yo,” she greeted.

He shook his head reproachfully and walked off to the kitchen.

She immediately sped past the hall and to the bedroom. As soon as the door closed, she locked it.

Leaning by the door, silence met her once more. As the seeping daylight met her eyes, tons of things raced through her mind and Kagura felt the tension coming back. She could barely move from her spot but it was getting uncomfortable. Eventually, she moved away from the door and strode to the closet.

Then, the tears started falling.

There was no telling what exactly it is she is feeling. All of it rambled, raced, and pranced all over her, overwhelming her immensely. Suddenly, she felt weak—Kagura was actually feeling _weak_.

When the door boomed with rapping sounds, Kagura hurriedly wiped her tears. She could hear Sougo’s voice, scolding again. Grabbing her clothes, she immediately dressed.

After opening the door, she did not pay attention to him and headed to the kitchen. Keeping her head low, she quietly ate breakfast. It was already cold but she did not care.

“China, I’m working on a case tonight,” he said, appearing beside her. “I might not be home.”

“Is that so?” she mumbled, almost stuttering.

Apart from her horrible Oda Nobunaga impression (he didn’t even know if she was impersonating him), something did not sit well with Sougo. It was obvious that his wife was immensely bothered and it dismayed him not knowing why. Of course, as much as he wanted to pry it off her, he knows he couldn’t. He could only wait. She’ll tell him, eventually. Sougo was certain of it.

“I have to go,” he said. He kissed her temple. “Love you, China.”

The moment the door of the apartment closed, Kagura dropped the chopsticks on the counter. “You bastard,” she muttered.

Her hands crept down to her stomach, caressing it gently. This was all too much for her. Kagura could not believe it.

There is another life budding inside her.

Suddenly, Kagura felt light-headed.

“It’s too spicy.”


	2. t w o

_The world will turn and we'll grow,_

_we'll learn how to be incomplete._

* * *

If work wasn’t so stifling already, he would have beaten himself up one way or another.

A bad mood goes a long way. It either gets worse and destructive or worse and depressive—no other way around it. Looking up, the precinct was as lively as ever—the usual groaning and whining, keyboard typing, printers printing, the radio humming, low chitchat, and boots clattering. Red eyes darted everywhere, anywhere except for the papers on his desk, anywhere except for his computer, anywhere except in front of him.

His mood only worsened from there.

Cooped up in his desk for most of the morning, it had been very uneventful except for the heaping pile of paperwork flooding everywhere. They were done at least, albeit a bit sloppily. Case files and other whatnot that was best left forgotten for the sake of his mental and physical health—he did not have to record every waking moment of it, right?

As long as the case is solved, that was already fine, right?

However, a lot of procedures had to be fulfilled until the case is actually considered _closed_ and he wanted nothing more than to seal it away into the depths of Tartarus, locked deep down in his subconsciousness, deeper than the iceberg, even deeper than the ocean—or at least down at the boring and dismal Records Department, one of the most forgotten departments of the police (the other being Public Relations).

“Oi Sougo, we have to hurry up—the hearing is gonna happen in thirty minutes, we better get our asses there, right away.”

Yet another reason that his bad mood just deteriorated into something apocalyptic.

“Shut up and die, Hijikata-san,” he hissed.

“Look, I don’t want to want to go through with this as much as you do but we better, so we can finally get the fucking perp behind bars,” replied Hijikata with the same aggravated tone.

If the precinct was in anyway stifling—the courthouse was a living hell. The concrete walls, the bench, the damn stand—all of it were considered to be, the ballroom of hell, and the defense attorney was the _Devil_.

Sougo did not want to go through with the damn trial. They had enough evidence to convict the criminal but _no_ , legalities needed to be abided. The trial had to be carried on.

This Devil—one of the many sub-species of human garbage, in his opinion—was breathing down his neck, figuratively speaking, throughout the entire time he was on the stand. Sougo never wanted to punch someone more than anyone else (yes, even Hijikata) in his entire life.

“So, you say my client had a motive to kill Takahashi?”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure that fucker wanted to kill the victim because he didn’t want to get found that he was stealing the pills and using it for his addiction.”

“Inspector Okita, will you please refrain from swearing in front of the court?”

“And are you sure it was my client who left the building around the time of the victim’s death?”

“We pulled all the surveillance tapes around the place and got facial recognition—it is him.”

“Yes, yes, but do what evidence do you have that he is indeed the one who struck the blow on Takahashi? It says here that there were no prints found on the murder weapon, no other DNA evidence that said he was there at the scene—”

“There were no prints nor DNA evidence because it’s a clinic. It had to be thoroughly sterilized but we have other evidence that says otherwise.”

The attorney smirked. “Really now, Inspector Okita? Would you please tell us the following ‘evidence’?”

By the time Sougo finished his explanation, the defense attorney was clamped shut. He had no further questions which sent a triumphant smirk on the police officer’s face. The judge called for a recess while the jury was making a decision. After thirty minutes of griping and intense discussion, the judge finally slammed the hammer. In the end, the perpetrator was found guilty of all charges.

Thus, ended another day at work.

Outside the courtroom, Sougo remained the same. Now that he had defeated the defense attorney, the number one spot on the list of people he wanted to punch to death was now reinstated to Hijikata, who was currently walking alongside him through the corridors.

“Good work, Sougo,” said Hijikata.

“Shut up and die, Hijikata-san,” he murmured low enough only for him to hear. They were in a courthouse after all.

When they got out of the building, Sougo breathed in the fresh air. Spring was at its peak and the city was painted in the lovely colors of the florae. The sun greeted him fervently as if congratulating him. Sougo’s eyes scanned around, savoring salvation, this deliverance from hell which took form in a courthouse. However, no matter how much he soaked up his fresh surroundings, his mood was still deteriorating for the worst.

The victory he had in the court was only momentarily and now, he was again empty.

He had a few theories why but none of them were really proven. At first, he thought it was because of Hijikata’s mere presence or that work was strangling him to no end, however, Sougo realized they weren’t the reason. He dealt with this hubbub and nuisances almost every day for six years. He would say, he had grown accustomed to it.

He had another idea, but he was too proud to actually admit it.

“Something is definitely wrong with you, Sougo,” Kondo voiced that night.

“Since when has nothing been wrong with him, anyway?”

They were at a local bar, drinking a few shots to wash away the pent-up stress of the day. Kondo Isao, the chief of the police station, had invited them out the moment they clocked out as congratulations for their victory at court.

“Toshi…” Kondo calmly scolded. “He has been out of it for quite a while now and it’s concerning.”

Sougo only spared them a glance before sipping on his bottle of sparkling wine. He was still driving tonight, unfortunately.

“As long it’s not interfering with work, that’s none of my business.”

As much as he wanted to drink until he shits himself and probably stay at the bar until daylight, he had to go home. Sougo did not like the fact that it was compulsory for him to but it was not like he had any choice.

Someone was waiting for him there—if that someone was indeed there.

“He’s probably having some marital problems, Toshi,” Kondo muttered.

Unfortunately for the chief, Sougo heard him just fine. “Kondo-san, I don’t want you prying on my personal life,” said Sougo.

Both men snapped their heads towards him. “So, it is indeed a marital problem,” Hijikata remarked.

“What do you know?” Sougo scoffed.

“I was married, I might know a thing or two,” Hijikata replied.

“I’m married as well,” said Kondo. “My wife just doesn’t know.”

Sougo slammed the bottle onto the counter. “Just shut up, both of you,” he grunted.

“Sougo, I know it’s hard if you and your beloved are having some misunderstandings,” Kondo consoled. “Tell you what, I can grant you a couple of days off so you and China-san can make up.”

The young policeman sighed dramatically. “No thanks, Kondo-san,” he replied. As much as he respected the chief, he knew better than to go along with his ideas.

 _It’s past the point of fixing anyway,_ he griped.

“Don’t tell me, Sougo,” Kondo hesitated. “Don’t tell me… you’re getting divorced?”

 _Shit._ Sougo didn’t realize he had said that out loud. He immediately confronted them before things escalated. “Kondo-san, we’re not getting divorced,” he said. _As if I’d let her divorce me._

“Then, what seems to be the problem?” Hijikata asked. Normally, Hijikata never meddled with Sougo’s personal life but he had to admit, this was getting troublesome (and a little interesting). The moment Sougo gets provoked, his twisted personality becomes even more twisted. Hijikata himself was always at the receiving end of it. If he was indeed having problems at home then, it only gave the man all the more reason to take out his anger on him. Hijikata knew this needs to be resolved, urgently.

Finally, Sougo seemed to have calmed down. He looked reluctant, but he finally relented. “China seems to be falling out on me,” he admitted.

“Why do you think so?”

Sougo averted, “I never hear from her nor did she even shed an ounce of regard,” he mumbled. “I never even heard her say those three goddamn words.”

Hijikata wanted to facepalm, so bad.

“Oi, Sougo,” he called. “That’s what you’re worried about? That Kagura-san never told she loves you? That she never cared for you? Seriously Sougo, I never thought that you’re actually that stupid.”

The young man glared at him but he paid no attention to it.

He needed to say his piece here and now and that stupid brat should thank him after. “The fact that she agreed to marry you proves just how much she does,” he said. “Even with your twisted and sadistic personality, she is the only one who continues to put up with you. Maybe your wife isn’t all that sweet and affectionate, but isn’t that part of the reason why you married her? ‘Cuz she’s not the doting, submissive, masochistic bitch?”

“Damn, Toshi!” Kondo gawked.

“Hijikata-san—”

“Don’t tell me I know nothing because I was once married and I recognize that act, you brat,” Hijikata interrupted. “If she was falling out on you, she would never even hesitate to walk out the door. If she never told you those three goddamn words then maybe you’re just that deaf and stupid. There is more than one way to say them, y’know.”

This seemed to grab Sougo’s attention. Puffing another cigarette in his mouth, Hijikata continued his speech, “I don’t know how your relationship goes or how she acts all the time, but I’m sure she’s been telling you those three words without actually saying it.”

“I’ve always known you never made any sense, Hijikata-san,” sneered Sougo. “But I’ve never thought it’d go to this extent. I suggest that you should sign up for a psych eval, Hijikata-san.”

“You’re the one who needs psych eval, you stupid brat!” Hijikata snapped back.

* * *

As soon as he got home, his nose was flooded with the smell of beef, onions, and _hondashi._

It was a little past nine in the evening when he arrived, his mind still pestered with Kondo and Hijikata’s crappy love advice. Sougo knew it had been a grave mistake to tell them, even he could hardly believe that he finally admitted that his wife was the root cause of his past grumbling moods.

He did not bother calling out to her when he walked in, but the savory smell did pique his interests.

Walking to the kitchen, the smell only got stronger.

Finally, he could see his wife waddling across the kitchen, a pan in one hand, and stacked bowls in the other. Her eyes cast a sideways glance at him, acknowledging his presence, before continuing what she was doing.

Sougo had been surprised, so to say. His wife was actually _cooking_.

Not that she never cooked, but the extent of her knowledge only reached up to _tamago gohan_ or _onigiri—_ basically anything rice-based—and some casual tofu soup. But here she was, serving beef in a bowl of rice and topping it off with some pickled ginger.

“I’m home…” Sougo could barely voice it out.

“Welcome home,” she replied sheepishly. “I don’t know if you’ve already eaten, so…”

Even though he wouldn’t admit it, the food looked quite appetizing. He felt his stomach rumble a little the more he looked at it. Never in his life did he once think that China was actually capable of cooking something that looked very appetizing. How amusing life makes a twist.

Sougo took his skeptic eyes off the bowls and shifted to her. “You actually cooked _gyudon_?” He asked, skeptically.

It wasn’t as if _gyudon_ was a complicated dish. It was just some pieces of beef and onions simmered in some _hondashi_ broth, soy sauce, sugar, and _sake_ topped in rice. Quick, easy, and appetizing. It is considered one of the staples in any Japanese household. Nothing too special about it. However, the difference was, China wasn’t one for cooking, especially something that had more than two ingredients.

“I tried making dinner but don’t expect it to be delicious…” her voice was low but snappish, she was averting her gaze, her cheeks were flushed red and her arms were crossed.

He definitely can’t believe it. “Now, now,” he smirked, regaining his composure. “What’s this? You’re actually becoming a dutiful wife and cooking? And what’s with that _tsundere_ act, China? You know, it’s sickening.”

She glared at him. “Fine then, you don’t want it, then I’ll eat it myself, yes,” she huffed.

“And have you sent to the hospital for poisoning yourself? Please, China. I can’t pay for all your medication if that happens,” he goaded. “Think about this poor policeman.”

“Then go starve yourself! And at least, try not insulting your wife when she makes an effort, yes!”

“That’s effort?” He raised a brow, “making _gyudon_ is _effort_?”

She looked like she was hesitating to slam the pan right in his face then and there. This sent a satisfactory, lopsided grin in his lips, though. He knew he was tugging the right nerves and getting to her.

If there was something Sougo always looked forward to every day, it was provoking China. It seemed as though he could not last a day without insulting her or making a snide remark and she always responded in kind, albeit violently, causing an all-out war between them. It was the very reason he got very attracted to her in the first place.

Though, it’s still a wonder to everyone they knew how they manage to stay together, for more than a year now.

“What the actual fuck, you bastard? It’s still a goddamn effort to try and cook, y’know?” She fired back. “You know I’m not a fucking housewife and nowhere near one, so this is a huge effort for me, yes!”

“You should know cooking shouldn’t be a problem if you had lived alone long enough,” he replied indifferently, unperturbed by his wife’s rage.

She looked hilarious rather, if he may say so.

“Goddammit! Just shut up if you can’t say anything nice, yes!” She screamed. “Be thankful, I didn’t even set fire to the goddamn kitchen, yes!”

Sougo really wanted to laugh. His China was making a big fool of herself right now.

Her rambling could have gone on but she abruptly stopped. She must have sensed that she was getting more ridiculous by the minute. The scowl on her face remained though as she went to get some chopsticks from the drawer. “I go to all this effort for my damn husband and he just tosses it away like some useless shit,” she mumbled. “Honestly, why did I even marry this bastard?”

Wordlessly, he snatched the chopsticks away from her, took one of the bowls, grabbed some Tabasco sauce from the cupboard, and settled down on the counter. Even if her voice was low (as lowest as loud-mouths like her could go), he still heard every goddamn word.

Now, Sougo might have insulted her ‘efforts’ but he never said he did not appreciate it. He was damn hungry, even to the point where he would take anything (and yes, even her cooking) and stuff it in. The first bite was not very earth-shattering or in any way surprising like he expected, but to his relief, it was not poisonous either. It was not bad as he thought it might be.

China might actually have the skill after all.

When he poured the Tabasco sauce all over, it tasted better.

* * *

As the autumn was almost at its end it also marked the end of his training course. Exams were taken and passed. Credit was given when credit’s due and now, he was officially given the title of Chief Inspector.

Chief Inspector Okita Sougo (or in some other place, he would be dubbed as Captain Okita Sougo) marched through the precinct with pride and glory. Everyone was cheering for him, congratulating his ascension of rank and he relished in their praise.

He knew he’s earned it.

Kondo and Hijikata were there to congratulate him, giving him his new set of bars themselves. Following the inauguration, he was given official command of a police squad. He was transferred to a different office and was given a new desk. The rest of the afternoon was just about briefing him about his new duties and assignments.

Coming home after the formalities (most of which bored him), he had a remarkable smile on his face that his wife had immediately noticed.

Scrutinizing her, his face contorted to that of puzzled. Kagura had disheveled hair and crumpled clothes. Her eyes were barely open, filled with eye boogers and obscured in dark eyebags. Even from the distance between them, he could smell the ‘morning’ breath—even though it was roughly ten in the evening. She moved sluggishly across the _genkan_ , occasionally leaning onto the wall to balance herself.

“When did you come home?” He frowned.

Kagura lifted her head, the light exposing her greasy face and puddles of dry drool on her chin. “A few hours ago. I just woke up, yes. So, what’s with that shitty grin on your face? It’s sickening.”

That look on her, that tone of voice, made him reevaluate a lot of things. Sougo could not believe himself, either.

In front of him, was indeed the woman that he married. Looking worse for wear, scruffy, foul-mouthed, and unladylike. She did not, nor ever, move with poise and grace but rather, moved like a crude gangster. Brutal, harsh, and without filter—she spoke with such obscenities that could even make the most hardened _yakuza_ blush in embarrassment. Feisty and violent, who knew that petite body of hers can pack a punch that probably could incapacitate a professional wrestler. She was the personification of the sin of gluttony because of her greedy appetite. Kagura was every bit of blithe and naïve, uncaring and audacious, merciless and sadistic to a degree.

No matter how much she attempted to be ladylike—he knew that pretense never lasts long because he was there, reminding her that she never was.

“You look more sickening, China,” he replied.

Kagura rubbed her crumpled shirt on her face, getting rid of the filth. “How about now?” She asked.

“You look sickening as always, China. You can’t do anything about that.”

She aimed a punch at him but he dodged. “Damn you, why do you always look alright while I have to look like utter shit, yes?” She grumbled. “Just proves that you police are good-for-nothings while us real contributors to society have to do all the work for the economy.”

“And yet, you married this good-for-nothing,” he deadpanned.

“I need someone to lower my tax bracket and it seems like a policeman was the best I can do,” she replied. “You did propose… rather kindly.”

Sougo smirked. “Admit it China, you just couldn’t resist me,” he teased.

“I’d rather marry a wart—oh wait, you are a wart,” she mumbled, whilst walking away.

These domestic moments were something rare. It wasn’t every day that both of them were home at the same time. Both their respective jobs hindered them a lot, especially after he was assigned to the night shift and had taken a training course during the day; especially after she had finally found a permanent job and was seizing every opportunity to boost her expertise. He was proud though, of how far they have achieved.

Speaking of achievements…

The smile returned to his face. “China, I actually fucking did it,” he said.

“You finally killed Toshi?” She asked, batting her eyes open.

Currently, she was freshening up in the kitchen sink.

It was annoying him how Kagura called that bastard Hijikata by his sickly nickname ‘Toshi’. He did not know how that happened. All he recalled was resisting the urge to punch Hijikata straight in the face. Sougo told her many times not to call that bastard by his nickname, but she never went along with what he wanted, anyway. But he was not letting that mere detail deter his happiness. “Not as terrific, but something adequate,” he replied, showing her the bars on his uniform. “I’m finally Chief Inspector.”

Kagura gawked at him in astonishment.

As the water dripped on her face and onto her shirt, Sougo finds her amusing as always.

Suddenly, she sprung on him, tackling him in a tight embrace. Sougo staggered back, startled by the sudden weight. He then, felt her lips pressing against his cheek and down to his neck, burying her face in the crook of it. Eyes filled with bewilderment; he was taken aback by his wife’s actions.

“Hey now, China,” he smirked, snaking his arms around her. “Looks like you’re even more eager with my promotion than I am.”

“Idiot, can’t you see I’m happy?”

“Happy that my salary’s being raised?” He scoffed. “No amount of money can buy you all the food you want, you gluttonous pig. I can only afford three meals a day.”

She smacks him. He hated to admit it, but that hurt—just a little.

Kagura pulled away, only slightly, and inclined her face to meet his. “You’re stupid to think that, yes,” she snorted.

He raised a brow, “no?”

She shook her head and smiled softly. “You really are an idiot, yes, a huge idiot,” she giggled— _wait, giggled?_

 _This woman has some few screws loose,_ thought Sougo. However, when her lips pressed against his, all thoughts were swept away and he quickly succumbed to her.

When she pulled away, she pinched his cheeks with both her hands. “Idiot… I just wanted you to feel my sincerity, yes,” she said.

For a moment, Hijikata’s words echoed in his mind— _‘if she never told you those three goddamn words then maybe you’re just that deaf and stupid. There is more than one way to say them, y’know.’_

Maybe, just maybe, Hijikata (that bastard) made some sense after all.

* * *

Working in the day shift was still something he was not used to yet.

After working in the night shift for more than half a year, suddenly being transferred to the day shift had slightly disoriented his bodily functions.

The first day he was back on the day shift, he had almost fallen asleep in his desk for an unaccountable number of times. When lunch break came, instead of eating, he went to nap instead, and hurriedly grabbed a mug of coffee after. The following afternoon was uneventful and no amount of caffeine kept him from slipping a few winks.

Today was following the same pattern.

At least, he was able to manage his urge to sleep most of the time but it didn’t help that the temperature inside the office was comforting, his environment was almost quiet, and that there was not much to do.

Looking at his computer screen, he saw all of the agendas fulfilled. His squadron had already done their respective jobs, casefiles were piled in his desk and additional reports were submitted. The clock struck six in the evening and from the window, his office was stained with the hues of the sunset.

He needed another cup of coffee.

As the night slowly fell, Sougo felt enlivened. It might be the cup of coffee but he begs to differ. Caffeine never really worked in his body throughout the entire day for the past week. His body has yet to get rid of being a night owl. It’s okay though, he thought. At least, he won’t be struggling to stay awake while on the road.

When the clock finally struck eight and the officers on the night shift had already arrived, he knew it was now his cue to leave. Exiting the building and greeting the cold autumn air, his feet trudged through the pavement, crunching the fresh fallen leaves. Hands in his pockets, he slightly shivered.

Sougo really hated feeling cold.

Suddenly, he heard his phone buzz.

Brows knitted, his skeptic eyes could hardly believe that his wife had texted him.

 _‘Come home quick,’_ it read.

Kagura was not one for texting or calling. The last time she sent him a text was nearly two months ago and that was an accident (instead of sending it to her friend Soyo, she sent it to him instead). They were the type of people to leave the conversations at home or whenever they meet up outside. So, when his eyes skimmed over the message, he wasted no time and rushed for his car.

Sougo was a little bothered by how ambiguous her message was but it seemed urgent. Hands clasped on the wheel, he sped in the direction of home.

Arriving at the apartment complex at roughly nine in the evening, his legs rushed up the stairs to the third floor, not even stopping to catch his breath. When he entered the apartment, it was awfully quiet. Suddenly, he felt his insides churn.

“China?” He called out.

From the _genkan,_ he saw Kagura popping her head out from the other end of the corridor. She looked unusually very excited. Hurriedly, she waved her hand, inviting him over to the kitchen.

He was washed with relief that nothing seemed to be wrong. Sougo quickly made a mental note to scold his wife about her ambiguous texts and made his way to the kitchen.

“What is it, China?” He asked. “You made me hurry home for what?”

Hands outstretched, she posed in front of the kitchen counter. “Ta-da!” She chirped.

He was utterly stunned at the amount of food at the counter. It was not ordinary food either—two cups of _yaki udon_ , another plate of _tensumu,_ a box filled with _wagashi_ , and a fruitcake with the message: ‘ _Omedetou’._

“What’s this for?” He asked.

“The team had a celebration, yes,” she replied. “The game we’re working on won an award.”

“So, you stole all this food?”

“No, you idiot, these were from the blowout. We had a lot of food in the office so we decided to take some shares home, yes.”

Sougo raised a brow. “Just how many is ‘a lot’ that even China couldn’t finish and had to take home?”

His wife glared at him. “Alright fine, if you don’t want some, then more for me then,” she muttered.

Reaching for the large Styrofoam cup filled with steaming _yaki udon_ and wooden chopsticks _,_ Sougo started digging in. He sat at the counter, dragging the plate of _tensumu_ close to him. Faintly, he heard Kagura chuckling and found her settling on the next seat, a cup of _yaki udon_ in her hands.

 _“Itadakimasu,_ ” she muttered before digging in heartily.

Something did not settle well with Sougo. Typically, Kagura never really waited for him to eat nor text him to hurry home so they could eat together. She was the type to eat whenever she felt like it and always took a large portion, leaving little for him. Also, she _never_ shared her food, rather she was the type to hoard all of it and store it in a dark, bottomless abyss that is her stomach. Chewing the savory noodles, his eyes wandered to his wife who was immersed in her world.

“China,” he called.

Her eyes cast a sideways glance at him, all the while still chewing. Rice and sauce were sticking on the corners of her lips. Sougo felt like sighing inwardly. Even after all these years, her crude way of eating never changed.

“This isn’t like you. It’s very alarming,” he spoke suspiciously.

“What is?” She asked.

“You, sharing all this food,” he replied.

Wiping the rice and sauce off her lips, she cleared her throat. “What’s the point of having all this food and success if I don’t share it with my damn husband?” She murmured.

Blinking once, then twice, he let the words register. Silence subdued both of them. Without thinking, the corner of his lips tugged upwards in a modest smile. Realizing it a moment later, he immediately resumed eating to hide it.

“So, what kind of award?”

* * *

“How’s the identity theft case?” He asked, swinging by Kamiyama’s desk.

It was a case that has been plaguing one of his detectives for a while now. Usually, Sougo did not meddle with the investigations, he only assigned them. However, this particular one was a tough case to crack that even the captain himself had to intervene. For two weeks, even before Sougo became their new captain, Kamiyama had been attempting to track down the perpetrator but the internet was a complicated web. Catching the perp was like finding a needle in a haystack.

“Still no progress, Okita-san,” replied Kamiyama desolately. “I’ve been running another algorithm but it seems like I’m still not getting a pattern.”

Sougo skimmed through the case file on his desk. Then, something caught his eye.

“Why are you using this algorithm?”

Kamiyama looked up from his computer and darted his eyes over the captain. “Is something wrong, Okita-san?” He asked.

“You’re tracking those people who had stolen those card numbers, right?”

“Yes.”

Fingers going over the keyboard, Sougo typed in a new algorithm. Immediately, the computer was processing the new input. Kamiyama watched the screen buzz, amazed at the development. His eyes flickered back and forth from his computer screen to the chief inspector, grinning in delight.

“Look, something’s come up,” said Sougo, before sipping his coffee.

“It’s the IP address!” Kamiyama gasped, “Okita-san, you’re amazing!”

Sougo smirked. “I think I wanna see this through,” he said. “I’ll tag along.”

After tracking the location and the host of the IP address, they issued a warrant and scurried out of the precinct and into the car.

By the time they arrived at the address, the sun had already set and night had settled in. The street was lit in tall lamps, the rows of houses were alight and headlights zoomed past them.

Everywhere was quiet. Domestic houses, domestic hubbub, and whatnot. What infringed this peaceful neighborhood was the precarious sight of two cops, rapping their knuckles on a door of a quiet house. Sougo and Kamiyama waited for anyone to answer but the house remained quiet.

“I’ll go search the perimeter, you stay here and wait,” said Sougo. He didn’t wait for his companion to respond and left the front porch.

Walking around the house, looking for any other means, he saw no other signs of anyone or anything living inside. All the lights were off, the walls were tall and unscalable and the windows were closed. Sougo grimaced as he returned to the front porch, finding Kamiyama still ringing on the doorbell.

“It’s no use… no one’s answering,” said Kamiyama. “Could it be that there is no one home? Or that this address is only a diversion?”

“There is a motorcycle, there are mail and newspapers in the mailbox. I also heard the vents,” said Sougo. “But if you’re still not convinced, there’s only one way of finding out.”

He kicked the door, hard enough to force it open. Instantly, they met with much deafening silence and darkness. Fishing out their guns and flashlights, they made their way inside the house with caution.

As Kamiyama searched through the ground floor, Sougo made his way up the stairs. The floorboards creaked with each movement and he cringed at its sound. Reaching the top of the stairs, he veered left, his flashlight lighting the hallway. Opening the lights, it was empty as expected, with nothing but several doors and concrete walls to greet him. However, before he could move, he felt a presence moving across the carpeted floors.

Shifting forward, he managed to dodge a baseball bat swinging towards him. Sougo turned around but before he could aim his gun, the bat swung once again. He evaded easily but he was staggering back. Firing shots onto the floor, the attacker halted in his tracks but not before slamming his bat down. Sougo sidestepped easily and fired more shots, successfully hitting his leg and abdomen. He immediately lunged at him, wrestling for his weapon.

When another bat had hit his back, Sougo slammed into the wall. He immediately evaded another swing and kicked the attacker off. Swinging his fists, he attacked the other perpetrator to the ground but he was only grabbed and thrown. Then, Sougo heard footsteps closing in and a panicked voice calling out for him.

Kamiyama was on the other end of the corridor, holding out his gun.

Two other figures stood in the corridor, apart from him and Kamiyama. Sougo gritted his teeth as he watched the other policeman engage in. When his bat came rolling off the floor, the attacker grabbed Sougo and hauled him to the wall, both engaging in another fight. Kamiyama immediately fired shots, hitting the criminal. Sougo kneed him in the gut and pried him off, letting the attacker fall to the floor. Sougo immediately grabbed his cuffs and restrained him.

“Okita-san!” Called a panicked Kamiyama.

Immediately grabbing his gun, he turned around but the sound of a gunshot already reverberated. Blinking, his vision already blurred before he pulled the trigger. When he heard a rattled cry, Sougo opened his eyes and saw a faint image of Kamiyama tackling down the other perp.

Sougo released a pained breath.

Everything spiraled out of his control from there. Light seemed to have fielded him and all Sougo could see was fuzzy images and bright flashes. Noises were in a whir and incomprehensible beyond his understanding. Every time he breathed was agony, he could feel the blood gushing out from somewhere in his body but he couldn’t recognize where. It was a good thing the distant sirens had resounded before his consciousness could fail him.

Someone was talking to him and he automatically responded. After that, his head went blank once more. Hands went to hold him up and his feet could barely drag him through the concrete. When the cold air slapped his face, he was suddenly awake. Sougo could recognize an ambulance and police cars. After that, engulfing him were steel and very hoary flashes. Throughout the entire journey, his eyes flickered around and his body sagged.

Finally, when the bullet was finally taken out, he heard himself grunting in pain.

“You’re lucky, _porisan,_ ” said the doctor. “The bullet almost didn’t hit anything vital.”

“ _Almost_?” Sougo stressed. Clearly, the doctor had no sense of tact. Scrutinizing the bandages now wrapped around his torso, he was told that the bullet had hit his side, just below the ribcage. It was mostly a flesh wound that will heal in several weeks if not disturbed. The rest just fell in and out of his ear.

Sitting up on the bedsheet, he could see Kondo and Hijikata entering the curtains and into his private space. One looked worried and the other was scowling—it seemed obvious which is which. Sougo smirked. “Yo,” he waved.

“Oi Sougo, what the fuck were you doing, getting shot like that?” Hijikata grumbled. “You let fucking amateurs beat you?”

“Said fucking amateurs knew fucking judo,” he replied hoarsely.

“And so? You’re a damn brown belter in karate, moron.” Hijikata fired back.

“Toshi, take it easy on him,” said Kondo. “The damage’s done. Let’s just be thankful, it wasn’t serious.”

Spontaneously, they heard a shrill voice piercing through the curtains, followed by reprimanding ones. The three men inside recognized it immediately and darted their eyes onto the entry. Suddenly, the curtains flung open, revealing a woman with vermillion hair clad in a white coat and brown boots.

She was glaring directly towards him.

Kondo and Hijikata backed away promptly.

“You fucking idiot!” She screamed. “You fucking let yourself get shot like that, you pathetic policeman?!”

The woman marched up to him and started hitting him. “You couldn’t even fucking learn how to fucking shoot first?” She bellowed.

Nurses immediately shuffled inside, trying to interfere but the woman was stronger and shoved them off effortlessly. Sougo watched with his usual blank expression meanwhile, Kondo and Hijikata remained still in one corner, clearly intimidated. The three of them knew that an enraged wife is a force that cannot be defeated. Especially if that wife is sporting vermillion hair, pale skin, and piercing sapphire eyes.

“Damn you, you fucking bastard!” She barked at him. “Next time, you shoot first! Don’t turn me into a fucking young widow, yes!”

Behind him, there was a knowing smile on Hijikata’s lips. That damn bastard knew he was _right_.

* * *

Even from the kitchen, he could hear the crackle of the rain from outside.

Sougo peered up from the multitude of casefiles, giving himself a breather. He hated taking work home. Even more, hating the fact that he was kicked out of the office by his superiors because he had been too focused on the job that he neglected his own health. However, this particular case was crucial. For the past two weeks, they have been tracking several drug dealings that could be potentially linked to a large cartel. Several detectives and he himself had a hand in the case however, they have yet to link.

No matter how many stakeouts, reconnaissance, undercovers, and interrogations they have done, there was still not enough evidence, not enough intel, not enough suspects and they only had little time.

He had been in too many drug busts, shot too many bullets, injured too many lives, maybe killed a person or two but what could he do about it?

The countertop was littered with papers and boxes of previous casefiles that might have a connection or another lead. Pictures of different crime scenes and photos of suspects strewn structurally. He probably violated some codes of confidentiality by sneaking all these records home but at this point, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. It was already his fourth cup of coffee and his back has been arched for nearly the whole night. He still hasn’t had any progress.

Turning to the wall clock, it was already a few minutes past two in the morning. Sougo groaned, massaging his temple. He could feel a bad headache coming up. For once, he could agree with Hijikata that he desperately needed sleep.

One by one, he carefully sealed the casefiles back into the box and sealed it close. There was no use in trying to work with an onrushing headache. Besides, he did not want to come to work in the morning looking like shit, all the more reason to provoke his superior’s wraths.

Stepping inside the bathroom, he immediately saw his horrid reflection in the mirror. The dark eyebags were much too obvious, and his crimson eyes only underlined it. He really needed sleep. Grabbing the packet of paracetamol from the medicine cabinet, he swallowed a pill with tap water. He was too dead tired to return to the kitchen and get a bottle. Anyway, water is still water so there isn’t much difference.

Slipping inside the bedroom, he did not expect the folded blinds, feet propped up the windowsill, a bright phone screen, and his wife still wide awake. He was now facing a full view of raindrops clattering on the windows. Then, Kagura lifted her head to greet him with a soft smile.

“It’s fucking past two in the morning, why are you still up?” He asked, striding over to the bed.

“Correction: I was asleep but I woke up just a while ago, yes,” she replied.

“Go back to sleep. Don’t you have to work in the morning?”

“I do,” she answered.

As soon as Sougo laid down on the bed, he felt immensely better. His whole body eased and his head didn’t pound so much anymore—until Kagura laid her head on his chest.

“China…” he grumbled.

She only patted his hand. “Rest. You’ve earned it.”

“You make it sound like I’m dying already,” he replied, batting an eye open. “Too excited to get insurance?”

She ignored him and continued playing instead. Sougo heaved a sigh and closed his eyes, waiting for sleep.

A little later, the pain finally subsided. Likewise, he heard the rain gradually let up. The bed stirred and the weight in his chest had gone.

“Oh, look at that, the rain finally let up,” mumbled his wife.

Sougo did not want to open his eyes nor move an inch.

The bed stirred again and this time, warmth settled beside him.

When the covers were draped over his shoulders, he felt much comfortable. Even if he was clad in a hoodie, the cold was still penetrating. Instantly, there was a mental note in his head to buy a heater for the bedroom as soon as possible.

There was a gentle and warm hand lifting his head and the other had slipped something over his eyes. Realizing that she had slipped on his sleeping mask, warmth strangely bloomed in his chest.

“You forgot your sleeping mask, idiot.”

Just before his consciousness had fully slipped away, he heard her.

“You know, it was you who made the rain disappear.”

He was too sleepy and too tired to try and comprehend her words and so, he left it like that.

When she woke him up the next day, she was already dressed for work. Kagura was acting like the usual too, smacking and barking at him to get out of bed. Lifting the mask slightly over his forehead, her words from earlier that morning echoed in his head.

 _The rain?_ He pondered. Ignoring her calls for him for the nth time.

As the day continued, the rain had greeted him once more while he was at the precinct. For a moment, her words echoed again in his head but he shook it off, focusing back on his work.

In the end, he still didn’t understand but a smile made it onto his face.

He meant something to her and that was enough.

* * *

Memories were best left as memories—something distant and padlocked, protected to one’s grave. Something of the past that is left unsaid but remained precious. It existed, it happened and it’s done—at least that was what Sougo thought.

But no, not this particular memory.

Even if everything must crumble apart or even if he falls away. As long as he was breathing, as long as he existed, he will, and no one else will, never forget.

How could he? Whenever he held her hand, it felt lighter and colder than the last time. Whenever she smiled, he could not smile back as she wanted and it filled him with dread. Whenever she tried to swallow the pain, she never looked stronger, rather she only looked weaker and almost lifeless. How everything around them was covered in white. How the crimson painted over them unpleasantly. How he was forced out of the room every goddamn time and was left with nothing but sheer anxiety.

Growing up with her, both alone against the world, Mitsuba was the only thing he had in his life. Sougo clung onto her, always grasping for her hand and never letting go, even when she had to be carried away to a place he cannot enter.

The first time she was infected with tuberculosis, he struggled between school, the dojo, and taking care of her. Eventually, he had to quit the dojo and cut back on his schooling, much to her disappointment, but they had little money and it all went to her treatment. Then, one of his teachers, who also lived within the neighborhood, found out and without a word, gave him every lesson plan from each subject and told him to return in time for the exams. Seven months later, Mitsuba recovered and he was able to graduate and get a scholarship in a university in Tokyo.

He regretted leaving her for Tokyo, for college. If he had only known that this was going to happen, he never would have left, even if it meant going against her wishes. He would’ve spent the years with her, sharing spicy rice crackers, going to places they have dreamed of going, and create more happy memories.

That was all that he ever wanted. All he ever wanted to remember was the time she laughed because of something funny, when she cried because of her favorite lame soap operas, when she smiled purely out of happiness. Back to the time when he was still young, when they lived under their late parents’ house. These simple memories with her from a long time ago.

But why did he also had to remember her suffering?

Four years ago, she had a sudden relapse. Words came in and out of his ears, barely registering what the doctor was saying. But even with the pain, even though she knew the medicine was not working anymore, even though her health declined, Mitsuba smiled and kept reassuring him she was fine.

Sougo witnessed every bit of her suffering. He was only outside, clutching the glass, the doors, anything within his reach. The world would blur every time. Then, he was left gripping his hair and breathing shakily along the empty hallways.

Today, he didn’t want to remember it. How he had let himself suffer against her wishes. Surely, somewhere up there, his sister did not want him tearing up because it was her death anniversary.

So, he ended up in the small bar that he always frequented. Sougo was already in his second glass when Hijikata entered inside. His mood only worsened when he saw the nicotine-addict. However, he couldn’t push him away. Only Hijikata knew of the pain he felt.

Sougo was very much opposed to it, when Mitsuba announced that she was going to be wed to Hijikata. He knew that they were sweethearts since childhood so it was painfully inevitable. Like any little brother, he didn’t want anyone to come near his sister unless he approves and Hijikata was miles away from approved. He was first on the opposite list. While growing up, Sougo considered the older man competition, from the _karate_ dojo to his sister’s attention. Entering the police academy, Sougo had the goal of surpassing him but even that still came a long way. He only relented to their marriage when he realized Mitsuba was finally happy and that was what he only ever wanted for her.

Even if he despised him most of the time, Sougo knew that Hijikata truly loved Mitsuba and that was enough.

When she died, Hijikata fell into a bad habit of smoking and it only fueled Sougo’s anger. How dare he destroy his own body? When Mitsuba fought hard for hers and still lost.

“Hijikata-san, if you so much as smoke in front of me, I’ll shoot you,” he threatened.

The man only looked at him with the same expression. “Stupid brat,” he muttered.

Sougo then handed out his bottle to him. “I’ll condone drinking but don’t you dare fucking smoke, you nicotine freak.”

He accepted it and drank to his heart’s content.

“Have you visited her yet?” Hijikata asked.

Sougo shook his head. He didn’t want to. Rather, he didn’t have the strength to, yet.

Instead, he drank from his glass again.

He did not know how long exactly they had stayed there. Only that the people inside grew lesser until it was only the two of them, plus the old barkeeper. By this time, everything had already been folded and cleaned up. The only light that remained open was the one directly above both of them. Hijikata was still sober but Sougo was very drunk already.

As the barkeeper handed another bottle, he had a frown on his face. “ _Porisan,_ that’s the last bottle I’ll give you,” he said. “You’re very wasted already.”

Sougo did not say anything and instead, poured himself a glass.

Hijikata immediately pried the bottle off him when he noticed that the glass was overflowing and spilling all over the counter. “That’s it, Sougo,” he said. “You’ve had enough. I’m calling Kagura-san.”

The next thing Sougo remembered was being awoken by his wife. Hijikata was already gone and the counter was getting cleaned.

Getting dragged out of the bar, the autumn air greeted him overwhelmingly, snapping him awake. His eyes slowly wandered to the mop of vermillion hair beside him, astounded at how resilient she is.

“China…” he slurred.

“What?”

“Keep me sane…” he mumbled.

China was nothing more than one of the spunky neighborhood kids he came across every time he was heading home from school. He frequently bullied her (along with the other neighborhood kids) and she responded by chasing after him with a fist up in the air. It was like that until he had to move away for college.

Two years after he became a police officer, he met with her yet again after fetching her father from prison for being drunk and disorderly, and since then, he had been very attracted to her. It surprised him when he learned she is his old high school teacher’s daughter and that she had developed a friendship with his sister. Kagura was also there for several times at the hospital, visiting Mitsuba. Even in her final moments, she stood there, trying to be strong.

Kagura might’ve not been there for most of his life hitherto. She was only the neighborhood kid back then. Kagura only, truly, appeared before him four years ago amid his pain but ever since then, he could not let her go anymore. Now here he was, entrusting to her the rest of his life.

“You don’t have to tell me, yes,” she replied. “When I married you, I was prepared for something like this.”

Sougo cupped her cheek and pulled her closer, kissing her forehead sloppily.

For a moment, he almost let slip the three goddamn words.

* * *

Dousing the chicken in the pan filled with onion, soy sauce, sake, sugar and mirin only did the kitchen began to feel alive.

The smoke flooded the kitchen and out to the living room, filling the apartment with a strong, savory smell.

Sougo moved around expertly and monotonously, after already doing the same menial task for as long as he remembered. Moving back to the kitchen counter, he began to whisk the raw eggs but his eyes were elsewhere, watching the chicken.

“China, you could help, y’know,” he said for the nth time.

He knows she’s there, watching in delight. The food, exactly.

“As I told you, no, I’d rather not,” she replied, the delighted smile growing wider.

It was his turn to cook today—as if they actually followed the timetable. Kagura pointed it out about a million times today until he resigned, much to his bother.

For the past week, they were either spending too much time at work or griping about how they were spending too much time at work. They both weren’t home, too focused on finishing work that they both didn’t realize the sun and moon had already shifted.

Sougo, deeply, enjoyed the day off. After being on a stakeout and another drug bust mission, it was nice to finally relax, be at home and burrow himself in the comfort of his bed. It was Sunday and he was making most of it—up until Kagura bugged him about cooking duties.

“Then, you’re not eating,” he replied.

Kagura’s grin waned and sunk into a frown. “Try me, you bastard,” she hissed.

He faced her this time, donning a scowl. “I told you not to test me, China.”

Turning back to the pan, he checked the chicken again, ignoring that his wife had just stuck her tongue out to him.

When he deemed the chicken was thoroughly cooked, he finally turned off the stove. Casting a sideways glance back at Kagura, he found her still sitting on the counter, head rested atop her sprawled arm. She had the same delighted grin as before and it was unnerving him.

Who knows what that bitch was thinking?

“You’re really not gonna help?” He barked at her.

She shook her head. “No…” she hummed.

“Either you help me or I’ll make you do the dishes all by yourself,” Sougo, true to his word, only grabbed one bowl for himself and raised it for emphasis.

Huffing, Kagura dragged herself off the stool and entered the kitchen.

He gave her the bowl, but not before smacking her forehead with it. Kagura bitterly took it and raised a middle finger in reply. Sougo only scoffed.

Moving on instinct, Kagura knew exactly where to get the utensils. She quietly prepared their dinner but the scowl on her face was still very evident. Settling into the counter, Sougo watched her prepare the bowls of _oyakodon_.

Placing the filled bowl and bottle of Tabasco sauce on the counter, Sougo smirked. It’s funny how easily she could memorize him.

Sougo took modest bites, giving himself a mental pat on the back for another job well done. He was no means a great cook, but at least, he knew more recipes than his indolent wife.

“I’m really lucky, yes,” beamed said indolent wife.

He looked at her suspiciously, but there it was again. That stupid, delighted smile.

Kagura was sitting on the next stool, head perched atop her palm, grinning pleasingly and cerulean eyes gleaming. Sougo veered away, brows furrowed and the corner of his eye twitching.

“Something’s really wrong with you,” he murmured.

A hand went up and pinched his cheek, causing him to almost drop his chopsticks. Forcefully, Sougo pried her hand off, coiling his own tighter around her wrist. When she finally retreated, Kagura only released a chuckle and started eating.

He waits for it.

Predictably, sounds of coughing, spluttering, and wheezing filled the room. Sougo tried stifling the chuckle threatening to escape his lips but when Kagura sprinted to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water did he let loose. A hand covering his mouth, he almost doubled back in laughter.

Kagura was _not_ amused.

“You fucking bastard! What the hell did you put in that fucking _oyakodon_?!” She shrieked.

Sougo didn’t reply, rather he couldn’t reply. More fits of laughter wanted to escape from his lips but he suppressed them, albeit barely.

Marching to the fridge, she rifled its contents until she finally saw the source of her tongue’s agony. The container filled with the leftover raw chicken was also filled with chili powder. All her nerves jolted and her nose flinched at its powerful scent. It was taking all her self-restraint not to throw the container at her damned husband who was still chuckling over the counter.

Even though it was doused in chili powder, it was still food. And Kagura would do anything but waste food.

“I told you not to test me, didn’t I?” Sougo smirked. “I’ve been asking you multiple times to help me cook supper but you didn’t want to. Serves you right, you indolent pig.”

Kagura snapped her head at him, glaring daggers. With the hazardous container back in the fridge, her hands were now free to strangle him. She marched up to him and grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging on it harshly. Sougo only retaliated by pulling on her hair as well.

They wrestled over the counter, hands pulling on each other’s hair, pinching each other’s cheeks, and smacking each other’s foreheads.

“China, if you keep on pulling, you’re gonna spill my fucking dinner!” He hissed through gritted teeth.

“Serves you right for putting fucking chili powder on the chicken!”

“You’re gonna waste food, you crazy bitch!”

Letting go at the same time, they recoiled enough distance away from the other. They were both panting, both glaring, both in pain.

Kagura raised her middle finger at him one more time before turning away. Sougo only glared as she moved around the kitchen, bringing out a slab of tofu from the fridge and some other ingredients.

As his wife cooked herself some tofu soup, Sougo watched carefully. A playful smirk now tugging on his lips.

* * *

_‘PRELIMINARY VICTIMOLOGY REPORT—Hanazono Serial Killings, KPD96-17_

_‘Vict.#_

  1. _Sawaguchi Mayaka, homicide. JW, DOB 3-20-90, DOD 11-10-19  
Weapon: .32ACP Hamada pistol, one shot—head  
POD: residence. No witness._
  2. _Ogawa Masafumi, homicide. JM, DOB 6-7-89, DOD 11-15-19  
Weapon: .40 S&W, one shot—head  
POD: residence. No witness._
  3. _Mizushiwa Kaito, homicide. JM, DOB 5-2-80, DOD 11-22-19  
Weapon: service, S&W 38, one shot—head  
POD: car. No witness._
  4. _Suwa Atsushi, homicide. JM, DOB 12-4-89, DOD 12-1-19  
Weapon: .32ACP Hamada pistol, two shots—chest and head  
POD: residence. No witness.’_



Sougo closed the file, finding no reason to look through it anymore. Looking at his computer monitor, he realized it was half-past eight in the evening.

He sighed.

The night before, he and some officers managed to catch the suspect and bring him in for questioning. For the rest of the night, he interrogated the man, trying to get him to confess before his twelve hours were up and he gets away scot-free. Sougo did not relent, using every tactic he knows of when he, all of a sudden, fell out of control (he was nearly bordering to a tyrannical sadist than the usual enforcing one). Only then did the criminal finally confessed. Afterward, he left to catch some fresh air, only to realize that it was already morning.

With huge amounts of caffeine did he managed to make it through the entire day without falling asleep or breaking. He handled the paperwork for most of the day, typing his thorough report, taking down diagrams, storing the evidence, and other paperwork down to the records room. Again, he didn’t realize that the night had already settled and that the snow was falling.

“Okita-san, you should go home already,” said Kamiyama.

Shifting his eyes to Kamiyama, he noticed that he was already geared to leave. He scrutinized him for a moment silently before he lazily nodded. Chucking the case file onto his desk, Sougo straightened up in his chair, stretching his cramping and aching limbs. He sighed again as he cleared up his desk and turned off his computer.

He’s earned it.

Hastily grabbing his coat and scarf from the backrest, he caught up with Kamiyama and they walked out of the building in silence.

“You look very beat, Okita-san,” noted Kamiyama. “Do you want me to drive you instead?”

He shook his head. Kamiyama said nothing more than a quiet farewell and departed away.

Sougo was snapped awake the moment he left the building. The winter was reaching its peak and snow was piling down the pavement. He rushed to his car, breathing and relishing its warmth as he slid inside. For a moment, he stayed still, his eyes adjusting to the dark.

Today was not unusual. Just another day at work. But everyone knew that they owed it to their captain not to aggravate him, especially today. Just like every day, Sougo worked silently at his desk, only speaking when he has to. Everyone regarded him respectfully and did not press on any words of greetings and congratulations on closing a difficult case. They all received word on how the interrogation went (as if the slung chair and traumatized suspect wasn’t enough indication). Only then did the entire squad just how intimidating and cruel the chief inspector was.

Somehow, he knew that his squadron will never look at him the same way again. However, he did not have the heart to care.

He was so damn tired.

Hunching forward, he finally started the car and drove in the direction of home.

He drove slowly. There was no need for rushing anyway. It was a good thing that only a few cars were on the road, all at a peaceful speed. After about half an hour, he finally made it through the highway and into the suburbs.

Everything was pleasantly quiet from there. The sight of houses immensely filled him with a sense of relief. Tall street lamps had lit the way, the snow had flooded most of the road and there was only him, driving in the midst of it at nearly ten in the evening. Fifteen minutes later, at long last, he had arrived at the apartment building.

Entering inside his apartment, the warm air soothed him and instantly, he just felt more tired than ever. Shrugging off his coat and boots, he made his way inside the quiet and dim apartment. He didn’t question it. He was used to this sight greeting him when he comes home. When he entered the bedroom tactlessly, he almost didn’t notice Kagura sleeping on the bed. He noticed her stir a little, but she did not wake, much to his relief.

Quietly, after changing out of his uniform and into warmer, comfortable clothes, he laid down on the mattress. Pulling the covers up, he finally relaxed.

Before he could close his eyes, he felt the bed stir. Tilting his head, he saw his wife turning about and scooting closer. Instinctively, he caught her in a clumsy embrace.

Her warmth immediately spread throughout his body and it felt gratifying. He eyed her for a moment, waiting for her to move and say anything, but nothing came. Resting his head back on the pillow, he resigned to their awkward position and just wrapped his arms around her, securing her in place.

There was no way he was letting her go now.

As he closed his eyes, he heard her mutter, “you forgot your sleeping mask.”

Sougo only moaned, not bothering to reply. In his exhaustion, he was willing to forego his usual sleeping mask, just for tonight. He felt her stir again. Inclining his head, he met her half-lidded eyes. “You got the bastard?” She asked.

“Yeah,” he replied.

She hummed in delight and snuggled comfortably in his chest.

“Welcome home,” she muttered before falling back to sleep.

* * *

Sougo couldn’t be bothered with where they are, why they were doing this, how they ended up with this, when have they become like this—what mattered was what they were doing. It didn’t matter that the dishes were still unclean and left ignored, it didn’t matter if his bottle of tea was still uncapped and forgotten. The only thing that mattered, the only thing he could register, was her lips pressed against his, sharing much fervor as his.

He couldn’t remember the last time they kissed like this, only that it seemed like so long ago. But he did not have time to reminisce, not when she is currently wrapping her arms around his neck. He responded in kind, snaking his hands on her hips, closing every bit of distance left between the two of them.

Kagura pulled away slightly. “The dishes,” she mumbled in between breaths.

Capturing her lips once more, he chastised her. “Who fucking cares?” He muttered.

Nipping her lower lip, he implored entrance. One hand went up to her back while the other fiddled with the hem of her shirt. He heard her release a moan and it sent his whole body into overdrive. Gripping the hem of her shirt, there was the feeling of need. Sougo needed her, _badly_.

It emboldens him, how she responded to this _need_. She grasped his hair, hands inclining his head so he wouldn’t let go. However, this was not enough. No, he needed more. And he was going to do everything to get it.

Sougo deftly spun her around and shunted both of them to the counter, pinning her in between. She squeaked at the contact and using this as an opening, he immediately slipped his tongue inside her mouth. It surprised her, making her whine and moan. Nevertheless, she responded to this challenge and soon after, their tongues clashed, making a mess. When all air was exhausted, Sougo had to pull away reluctantly and breathe.

Kagura’s hands went up to cup his cheeks. “Sougo…” she muttered.

“I know,” he replied, giving her a quick peck.

His trail of kisses went down to her chin, then to her neck until he nestled his face onto her shoulder. He was still panting heavily and it echoed through the entire room. Kagura wrapped her arms around him, hands trailing under his sweater.

As her warm hands grazed his skin, he was enlivened. He felt on fire. Sougo hoisted her up on the counter and now he was face to face with her. His lips went back to hers shortly before he began trailing sloppy kisses down her neck. Teeth biting onto her pale flesh, she gasped. Her hands grasped his skin desperately. When he began sucking on it, she was already tugging on his sweater.

“Sweater. Off.”

A smirk made its way to his lips. “Don’t be too eager, China,” he breathed into her ear, causing her to squirm.

“This is all your fault, yes,” she mumbled.

His hands left her hips and slipped beneath her shirt. Before long, he was cupping and tugging her bra, teasing her breast. Kagura bit her lip, trying to suppress the moan trying to escape her lips, but Sougo only pressed harder. He whispered once more, “China, don’t hold back.”

Kagura let it slip, unable to control herself anymore. Meanwhile, Sougo returned to her neck, sucking on the same sweet spot once more.

When his other hand pulled on her shirt, she eagerly lifted it herself. Exposing her pale torso, in this bright light, he felt intoxicated. Sougo, without delay, began touching and kissing once more and she was left with clutching onto him.

“H-Hey, take your damn sweater off, yes,” she grumbled.

Pulling away from him, she gave him a displeased look. Sougo scoffed and proceeded to take off his sweater, tossing it onto the counter only to be forgotten.

Her sapphire eyes darted to his torso, studying every inch of it. It wasn’t every day that they get to do this, to see each other so openly in this light. Kagura lifted a hand to touch his skin and she saw him flinch. Strangely, this little action aroused them further. She quickly hunched forward, leaning closer to kiss him.

As her hands trailed around his torso, Sougo shuddered. There was an unmistakable fire in her hands that sets him ablaze. Before he could falter any further, he bites on her neck and squeezed her breasts, eliciting another rousing moan from her. Kagura’s head fell on his shoulder and she was panting heavily. Her arms only pulled him closer, desperate for more contact.

“You have many cool scars, yes,” she mumbled.

Abruptly, Sougo stopped his ministrations altogether and pulled away slightly enough so he faces her. There was an unreadable look on his face, something that worried Kagura.

 _This woman…_ Sougo beheld her, letting her soak in this light. _What the hell did you do to me?_

Gently, he let his head fall on her shoulder. He caressed her hair, then her head.

Admittingly, he had a lot of scars over his body. Some of it came from the academy while some came from his missions. He did not care for them, letting it flourish all over his body however, it was kept hidden well. Now, Kagura could finally see all of it. He never felt more naked in his life.

“Sougo?” She asked, worriedly.

“Kagura…” he replied. The sound of her name from his lips still didn’t feel as natural as he hoped it to be.

When he pulled away, he saw her flushed expression. It made him smirk. Now, he was turned on.

It was then he realized, he only loved even her more.

* * *

There was a problem when he came through the door. Sougo was immediately wary.

Voices filled the living room—one was the distinct voice of his wife and the other one was unrecognizable. Both were raising their voices, the former frenzied while the latter strained. He was worried. It was not unusual that Kagura sounded like a crazy woman but this kind of tone was miles away from what he was used to. He could tell that much.

“I’m not going with you, yes!” Kagura bellowed. “Can’t you understand that, you bald geezer?”

“Think about your mother,” the other voice said. “She’d be thrilled up there if we’re back as a family.”

“Family? Seriously? Mami wouldn’t have entrusted me to Gin-chan if she knew that you’d be an adequate father,” she retorted.

Reaching the living room, three figures’ eyes were all on him—Kagura, his old high school teacher, and a bald old man in a suit. Sougo awkwardly raised a hand and saluted, almost idly.

“Kagura, who is this?”

“You, could you—could you leave us alone for a moment?” Kagura asked exasperatedly.

“Kagura, who the hell is this?” Asked the bald man.

“He’s my husband,” she replied. “Yet another reason I’m not going back with you to Sapporo.”

In between the horrified and frustrated shrieks, Sougo was still very much confused. From his peripheral vision, he could see Gintoki striding up to him. He had his usual blank gaze, something that he knew all too well. The silver-haired man tapped on his shoulder and nodded in the direction of the door. Somehow, he knew that he should very well leave both of them so they could talk properly, even if he didn’t want his wife alone with the likes of him.

When they reached outside the apartment complex, Gintoki sat on the porch and hummed in relief. “Finally… those two pain in the asses are really killing me,” he groaned.

Following suit, Sougo placed himself just beside the older man. “ _Danna_ ,” he spoke. “Just who was that?”

Gintoki looked at him with slight amusement, “Kagura never told you about her real family?” He asked.

Shaking his head in reply made Gintoki scoff and grunt even louder. Craning his neck up, he vented out his frustrations to the air. “That brat, seriously,” he groaned.

Kagura never really mentioned her real family, only that her mother entrusted her to Gintoki before she died. That was about the only knowledge he had of her childhood. They never really bothered to tell each other their pasts. Both were the “live in the present” kind of people, thinking that it was the best thing to do.

Turning back to the confused policeman, Gintoki cleared his throat, “Kagura’s real father, Kanko-san,” he said. “Never really liked that bald geezer either but that was who Kouka married so, it was best not to say anything.”

“Seemed like you and her mother were close,” he noted, noticing the lack of honorific on the woman’s name.

Gintoki shook his head. “Not the way you’re thinking, brat,” he said. “I won’t bore you with details but we were old friends and she’s way older than me, like an older sister.”

Sougo nodded, finally able to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

“Kanko-san wasn’t there for most of the time, doing overseas work, and if he was, it didn’t usually last long,” Gintoki continued. “This caused dysfunction in their family, especially after Kouka was diagnosed with tuberculosis. Kagura’s older brother rebelled and was in and out of the disciplinary ward meanwhile, she had to take care of her mother herself.”

Snow fell onto their heads. Both Sougo and Gintoki were gazing up to the sky, watching as the snowflakes littered the wintry air. It was a quiet night, something that was very common in this neighborhood, but tonight, it was void of its usual comfort.

“Souichirou-kun—”

“It’s Sougo, _danna._ ”

“—make sure to take care of Kagura for me,” said Gintoki. “She’s very precious to me, even if that crazy girl is a pain in the ass, and I’d hate it if she gets hurt again. Don’t tell her I said this though.”

“ _Danna,_ you don’t have to tell me,” he replied.

They both sat there in silence for who knows how long. For a while, Sougo pondered about what Gintoki said. These details he said were all relatively new. All at once, he understood Kagura a little bit better.

 _It was you who made the rain disappear._ Only now did he begin to understand what it meant.

When the porch was filled with the sound of boots clattering did only both of them detached their eyes from the scenery. Looking back, they saw Kanko walking out of the complex, followed by Kagura in an ample distance. He was silent all the way through with an unreadable expression on his face. Gintoki knew it was also his cue to leave and whacked Sougo on his lap before standing up.

“Kagura,” Gintoki called. He held up a thumbs up at her, discreetly away from her father’s eyes.

Kagura nodded and a small smile made its way to her face. Gintoki patted her head before taking his leave, following after Kanko who was already out on the street.

Sougo remained immobile in his place. He simply peered up and watched as Kagura took her place beside him. When both Gintoki and Kanko were out of sight, Kagura released a sigh and forced a smile.

“I wasn’t able to cook dinner, yes,” she spoke. “I would’ve if that bald geezer didn’t show up.”

He didn’t reply and just kept his eyes on the sidewalk.

“It’s our second anniversary today,” she muttered. “Not that I was counting or keeping track.”

It amused Sougo that she even remembered. Their marriage wasn’t special or as memorable. They simply signed their names on the marriage certificate, submitted it to the ward office and they were officially married. He expected that she’d let the date of that day slip by like he did but of course, he was wrong.

Kagura nervously reached for his hand. Sougo cringed at how cold it was.

“I’m not saying it was totally worth it, but this is more than fine,” she muttered.

A chuckle escaped from him. Sougo then stood up and turned heels, leaving a freezing Kagura on the porch. Hurriedly, Kagura followed him back to their apartment, all while grumbling about how insensitive and rude he is.

* * *

For the past few days, Sougo was very bothered by his wife’s enigmatic behavior. However, he couldn’t spare the time to think about it. He was too busy with a case that he hasn’t been home to try and investigate it for himself. When he opened the door to his generous apartment, he unconsciously called out, “I’m home” but there was no reply. The apartment was very empty and cold.

She was not home for tonight, it seemed.

He should have expected it. Sougo was privy to staying late nights working, him and his wife, or not being able to come home at all, more or less. It was never an issue for them. It has been that way even before they married, even before they dated so no one gets to complain. He worked for the executive branch of the law, meanwhile, she worked as a game developer—no one should complain.

However, this was one was an exception.

Sougo lazily kicked off his boots and shrugged off his heavy coat. Dragging himself to the kitchen, he grabbed one of the last remaining cans of beer from the fridge and immediately splurged himself in its tangy taste.

It was not him to drink, but not drinking is not indulging in the joys of being an adult.

Leaving her with a tearstained face, puffy eyes that screamed lost and shaking hands—he had to admit, it didn’t sit well with his conscience.

He was not in a rush. Sougo took the last sip of his canned beer and threw it in the trash. Then, he found himself fishing for another can from the fridge. Eagerly, he took another swig.

Nobody knew why they had kept a few cans of beer inside the fridge, only that it was mysteriously there whenever they needed to unwind. And Sougo badly needed to.

The case was a series of B&Es, all of which targeted rich people’s houses. Sougo and another subordinate of his spent the last three days going over the victims’ connections and interrogating prospects for their possible suspects. It was a good thing that their inquisitive minds had them both forcefully invited to an event exclusively for the rich and thus, came the undercover work. _All this for a damn B &E case? _Sougo remembered grumbling about how uncomfortable his tux was and that multiple stares came his way throughout the event.

Whatever he did during the investigation was better left forgotten, or else, his wife will surely castrate him.

He shuddered slightly at the thought.

Putting down the canned beer, he started to cook dinner. It was nine in the evening and he was damn hungry. He doubted that his wife would even come home at this hour.

As he was in the middle of cooking, he was startled by the sound of the door opening. It wasn’t just any door either, none of their doors squeaked except for one and it came from the adjacent room.

“What time did you arrive?” Sougo asked, turning to Kagura who sat on the counter table. “I didn’t notice you were here.”

She remained motionless. Sougo grew concerned.

Kagura was still acting the same like three days ago.

“China?” He called.

The woman only shook her head. “Obviously, you’ve become deaf,” she replied with indifference.

Clicking his tongue, he realized his concern was pointless. Maybe, he thought, she was just having her monthly period which explained her inexplicable mood. As he was stirring the meat along the pan, he noticed her going over to him. Head peering over to the pan, her features fell into a scowl.

“That’s all?” She raised a brow.

Sougo glowered, “China, this is already more than an average human can take. This is enough for both of us.”

She slowly shook her head. “No, that’s not what I meant…”

“Then, whatever did that meant, China?” He groaned.

She seems to ponder for a moment. “I meant, it is enough but…” she trailed off for a moment, “well… you’ve got to start cooking a little more than that since… someone… someone will be joining us, y-yes.”

Inclining his head to meet hers, there was confusion in his expression. “You got a friend coming? At this hour? If so, then cook for yourselves.”

“No, not a friend—well, might as well call it that, I guess?”

Then, Kagura left his side and padded away. He squinted at her for a moment, still confused. Though, it appeared ridiculously futile to try and comprehend her odd behavior and just focused on cooking the food instead. Wordlessly, Kagura helped out, taking out the Tupperware with left-over rice from the fridge and heating it in the microwave. After the spicy _oyakodon_ incident two months prior, she made it a point to help him out wherever she could.

It still sent a playful smile on his lips whenever he remembered it.

When dinner was being served, Sougo firstly noticed the two bowls on the counter. “I thought you had a friend coming?” He asked.

Kagura perked up, startled by his sudden question. “Friend? N-no, not now… m-maybe in the future… you just get used to cooking a little more than usual,” she stuttered.

He awkwardly sat beside her. Meanwhile, she remained tense, fumbling with her hands and biting her lip. Sougo just pushed her bowl in front of her. “Eat up, you’re weirding me out,” he said.

There was a different aura around Kagura and it was very unsettling. He felt like being in one of those horror films where the monster was hiding inside the human, waiting to burst out and he was its first victim. He ate warily, eyes glancing at her direction every once in a while.

Kagura was not eating. She was just staring at her food.

“Didn’t _danna_ tell you not to stare at food?” He scolded her.

She shifted, hands going for the pocket of her skirt. “You bastard,” she muttered. “I-I’ve been trying to tell you that… well…”

Fishing it out of her pocket and placing it on the countertop, Kagura clamped her mouth shut and let the stick do the talking.

Sougo’s eyes darted on the device on the countertop, scrutinizing it insistently. His face remained impassive as usual, but even that was taking all his strength. Inside, everything was crashing.

“We didn’t talk at all about this, so I wasn’t sure how you would react,” she blurted. “We’re both so busy with work that… I don’t know how are we gonna handle this.”

Taking the stick in his hand, both his dinner and hunger were forgotten. His red eyes stared at it up close, forcing his brain to let it sink.

Two lines. _Two_ _fucking lines_.

Pocketing the stick, he hurriedly slipped on his coat and shoes and strolled out of the apartment and into the winter night, ignoring Kagura’s frantic calls.

Sougo drove away from the apartment building.

Through the lit streets, he drove knowingly. Thirty minutes later, after passing through the main road and several avenues, he made it.

Entering inside the homely bar, Sougo spotted him drinking a glass of beer like the usual.

“ _Danna,_ ” he called, going up to him.

“Souichirou-kun, the hell are you doing here? Here to arrest me for drinking again?” Gintoki griped.

He sat on the stool beside him. “No,” he replied. “Do you want me to?”

“Brat,” he griped again.

“Anyway, let me cut to the chase,” Sougo said, pulling out the stick from his pocket.

Gintoki’s eyes nearly bulged out of its sockets. He spat out his drink. But he only started coughing and spluttering more beer that got caught in his throat. Sougo patted his back, comfortingly.

While his old teacher was coughing, a smile crept upon his lips. No, it was not because of his teacher’s suffering but rather, it was because of the stick.

His wife is pregnant and he was going to be a father.

“Damn you—you really got me there, Sofa-kun,” Gintoki sputtered.

“It’s Sougo.”

“Is this for real? You finally knocked her _tsundere_ ass up?”

“Is that how a father should talk about his daughter? You know, I can arrest you for that.”

Gintoki was now laughing. “Hey, congratulations to the two of you, really. I’m proud of you, Souichirou-kun. Want a drink? It’s on me.”

“You’re surprisingly taking this well, _danna,_ ” Sougo remarked. “And it’s Sougo.”

In all honesty, Sougo expected that Gintoki was going to bust his brains out. He was even prepared for it, so to say. As for the reason why he sought him out was also unknown to him. But Sougo very much respected Sakata Gintoki and this was as if he was asking for his blessing once more. As Gintoki and Sougo both chuckled heartily, the door to the bar slid open and came in a woman with bright vermillion hair in a white coat. Gintoki immediately noticed her presence and abruptly withdrew his proud grin.

“So-Sofa-kun…” he drummed on his shoulder and pointed to the bar entrance.

Kagura walked up to them, looking very appalled. “You bastard!” She growled. “You suddenly leave the apartment without a word and then, you come here to fucking drink and laugh with this other bastard?! Does this seem like a joke to you?”

“Hey, hey! Who’re you calling ‘other bastard’, you ungrateful bitch?” Gintoki barked. Then, he smacked Sougo on the back of the head, making him sputter out his beer, “and you! Why the hell didn’t you use protection? You know she is still busy with fulfilling her dreams and all! What the hell, Sofa-kun? Why couldn’t you keep it inside until you could get your fucking dick out?”

“Weren’t you congratulating me just a second ago? You even said you were proud of me,” deadpanned Sougo, shaking the beer off his hands.

Kagura scoffed. “I can’t believe this! You two fucking idiots, go fucking die in the gutter, yes!”

“China, if I die, then who’s gonna pay for the child’s expenses?”

“I work too, y’know! I also have a fucking salary.”

“But all your salary only goes to buying your crappy _sukonbu_ or some other food,” he replied. “I, on the other hand, actually have the initiative to budget my salary.”

“Is not!” Kagura retorted, swinging her fists at him however, he dodged every single one.

“China, you’re being too reckless and selfish. Your life is not just yours anymore, idiot. Think about the child before you go punching your poor husband,” he said.

Retracting her fists back, she huffed in frustration. “Poor husband? You? At least, you’re not carrying the child for nine months and giving birth! Fuck you, you bastard!”

“How’d you think that child got in there?” He pointed to her stomach.

Instantly, she was flushed red in embarrassment. Turning aside, she began grumbling, probably his requiem. “Why the hell did I let myself fall in love with a jerk?” She griped.

“Oi, Souichirou, you idiot, your wife is fucking pregnant and you’re stressing her out,” Gintoki smacked the back of his head once more. “That’s not gonna do her and your child any good.”

“ _Danna_ , if you hit me again, I might as well arrest you.”

“Arrest me but remember, I’m your wife’s father by law. In these current times, there’s no fault in a father beating up his retched son-in-law,” Gintoki jabbed his finger at him as if making a point, before taking a swig of his beer. “I will beat you up if you don’t take care of her as I told you to.”

Sougo stood up from the stool and walked out of the bar, following after his wife who conveniently walked out on them while he was being smacked. When he finally caught up to her, he found her boarding her scooter. Suddenly, something tugged at him—instincts, maybe—and made him chase after her before she could drive away.

“Oi, China!” He called. Hands slapping on the seat of her scooter. “Are you an idiot? The road is too slippery in this weather. You can get into an accident and harm yourself and the child!”

“I went here with my scooter, dumbass, and nothing happened, yes.” She retorted.

“Ride back with me,” he said, ignoring her statement.

“And leave my scooter out here? Ha! No way.”

“China… don’t,” he hissed. “Don’t be too stubborn.”

Kagura calmed down. As much as infuriating he was, the last thing she wanted was him mad at her. Amenably, Kagura turned off the engines and dismounted her vehicle, parking it beside her father’s scooter which was hidden under the stairs to his apartment.

Sougo waited for her inside the car. When she finally slid inside, he twisted the key and the engine revved.

“Are you… are you annoyed?”

“You’re annoying.”

Kagura rested her head on her palm, elbow perched by the car door. She kept quiet and gazed out the window, watching as they sped past the street.

“China,” he called out to her. “Don’t misread me. I mean, I’m actually pleased that we’re gonna have a child. It’s about damn time we do.”

“You’re gonna have to cut your work hours during this fella’s first months.”

“I’ll talk to Kondo-san… see what I can do.”

“I will be on leave from work for about a year or two, so your pay will have to get us through for most of it, yes.”

“Then, I’ll be cutting back on your food budget.”

“You will be helping me around to take care of this kid, no buts. It’s your child too.”

“We’ll split it, fifty-fifty.”

“We’re actually doing this, huh?”

“It’s already there, isn’t it?” Sougo took a glance at her. “Might as well learn how to be proper adults for this kid.”

Kagura detached her eyes from the window and observed her husband instead. “You nervous about being a father?” She sneered.

“You’re more a nervous wreck about being a mother, China.” He chuckled.

“Hey,” she called faintly. “Once, this is born, you can never escape—it’s ‘us’ now, yes.”

Even through the dark, she could see the corners of his lips tug into a faint smile.

“I do love you, even if you’re an insufferable bastard more of the time,” she muttered.

There was no hiding it. Sougo found himself smiling a little more. Warmth resonated throughout his entire body and suddenly, he felt at peace. He was finally home.

They both were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Gintama. All credits go to Hideaki Sorachi.
> 
> Fucking finally made it here? Congratulations! I sincerely hand out my thanks.
> 
> I don't know how it had gotten this long, I swear. It was never meant to be this long.
> 
> Reviews are appreciated. Criticisms are welcomed. I know I might have gotten a little or way too out of character with these idiots. I sincerely apologize. There maybe some grammar issues in there also since I'm not a native English speaker, please point it out so the next time, I can get my English better. It was just that I had this idea out for quite a while and since I haven't made a purely Okikagu fic, I decided to give it a shot.
> 
> Also, no matter how much research I do, I can't find the exact number of years of service before Japanese policemen can go up the rank of Chief Inspector but Sougo not being a Captain doesn't suit him well. I'm really sorry for these mistakes. Additionally, I dunno if game developers do go through that kind of hell I put Kagura through, I know no people in the game developing business nor found no info in the Internet. I sincerely apologize yet again.
> 
> Lastly, I didn't mean to insult or belittle defense attorneys, the records department and public relations. They do a freaking good job respectively. I salute you all who are in those lines of work. It was just for the dramatic effect of the narrative. So, I'm really sorry if I offended anyone.
> 
> follow me in tumblr: @kara-vika (might publish some shit there too.)
> 
> Thank you again and stay safe. (/o^v^o)/

**Author's Note:**

> The game I'm pertained to here is loosely based on Fate/Grand Order. A popular RPG game in Japan. One of it's notable features is using historical and classical figures as its characters dubbed "Servants". I myself is addicted to it. Fact: Kagura and Sougo's original voice actors, Kugimiya Rie and Suzumura Kenichi, also partook in voicing a few game characters.
> 
> Elizabeth Bathory is a 16th century Hungarian aristocrat, known for killing women, especially virgins. Rumors say she bathed in their blood to keep her youthful looks. Vlad the Impaler is considered a Romania national hero. He is known to be a ruthless ruler, impaling his enemies on the stake. Gilles de Rais served as a companion to Joan of Arc. After her death, did he became a sadistic man-slayer and harasser. Caligula, one of Rome's first emperors. He ruled ruthlessly, toppling all his enemies with violence. All of Rome grew afraid of him. Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde, the titular character of Robert Louis Stevenson's book "The Strange Case of Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde". Mister Hyde is Doctor Jekyll's alter ego and the antagonist. Mister Hyde is a murderer.
> 
> "Rather than Okita Souji, he summoned Hijikata Toshizou instead" - In FGO, Okita Souji and Hijikata Toshizou are playable characters. I actually have Okita (Alter) and she is such a blessing.
> 
> Lightworks Studio is a parody of Delightworks Studio of which developed Fate/Grand Order.
> 
> "Is that so?" or "de aruka?" was Oda Nobuna's catchphrase in "The Ambition of Oda Nobuna" which is a genderbent Oda Nobunaga story, basically. This was also used in Fate/Grand Order. Another fact, Kagura and Oda Nobunaga (FGO ver.) share the same voice actress.


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